Webbed World
by Amano Unmei
Summary: The Atlantis team encounters a new race of beings in the Pegasus galaxy. They are big, they are mighty, and they all are robots. And they transform.
1. More than Meets the Eye

Planets with orbital Stargates were often pretty empty. Some of them had stable, peaceful communities of humans left there by the Ancients with no means of stellar transport, but most of them were simply desolate or overcome with flora. This one seemed little different from the second type, most of it covered with oceans, much like Earth, and the rest being wild, harsh forests and jungles. One could not forget if they had to listen to McKay whining about how they are not going to find anything of interest and should return to the jumper.

"Look," said Sheppard "we have a recon to do, and it's been ten minutes since we left the jumper."

"Yeah, but still, I don't think we'll find anything--" he paused as something in his pocket beeped. He took out the Ancient reading device and stared at it. "Whoa..."

"Nothing interesting," said Ronon flatly.

"No no no no no... I'm picking up an energy reading. It could match a Zed Pee Em!"

John grinned at him. "That's more like it. Show me the way."

McKay did, grumbling and whining each time he had to cross a log or move some denser bushes aside to make way for the team. Fortunately for him, the hulking Satedan did most of the weed and liana cutting for him, yet still he had to let the physicist go slightly ahead most of the time, simply because he was the one with what Sheppard started to think of as the 'Ancient GPS'.

The device led them towards what must have once been a majestic Ancient facility, now nothing more than a few lone panels and bits of what used to stand as walls, many of which fell, and the rest seemingly just evaporated. Weed grew all over what remained, covering all inscriptions and, rather surprisingly, grinding some of them off the surface. The first thing McKay did after reaching the spot was walk over to the nearest panel and remove the flora while the others secured his sides. Sheppard was ready to thwap the scientist for ignoring their own security, but it appeared the site was clear. At least for the time being.

He approached the remains of one wall and uncovered the writings, ignoring the fact that he cannot even read them. Nothing lit up. No systems sprung to life.

"You sure it's a Zee Pee Em?" he asked in disbelief, turning to Rodney.

"It can be," McKay said, interfacing his laptop with the panel he was standing by, even though it was completely dark and unresponsive. "Just because this place is down doesn't mean its power source is depleted. Might mean, I don't know, that the circuits that ran through this facility were cut off?"

"Okay, I get the point," Sheppard replied as he moved to peek over the physicist's shoulder. "What you got?"

"Not much, this panel is too damaged to give me access to most of its data... But!" With a satisfied grin, McKay knelt and put his faithful tablet on the ground. Displaying line of text after line, it watched as its owner fiddled with the base of the controls, removing a single plate from one of its walls. Behind it, connected by wires, many of which were severed or fried, stood a shining zero-point module.

"We got the Zed Pee Em," he said triumphantly.

"Can we get out of here now?" Ronon said, staring out into the jungle. "I don't like it here. Too quiet."

Sheppard eyed him slowly, but saw only the familiar, strong form of his friend, with the never changing, stern expression. "Sure," he finally agreed. "We got our prize, we should take it to Atlantis."

And so they went off. But none of them realized that, compared to all of their previous missions, this went far too smoothly. Something was bound to go wrong.

* * *

"Sheppard!!"

Ronon's cry came only a second before the noise they heard took shape. The dense forests gave way to... things. There were three figures, giant, inhuman. Composed of nothing but plates, forged of metal, they could not hide anywhere on this planet – and they did not bother to. One was painted white and purple, holding a huge gun the size of a tower of Atlantis, another was purple and black, holding another humongous gun, and the third was just purple. But this one attracted more attention than its two metallic companions – its gun was not _in _its hand, it _was_ its hand. And this creature – machine – had no face. Just one, huge glowing light where the face should be. And all three bore the same strange, purple insignia shaped like a pointy, sinister head.

Gargantuan, seemingly sentient robots. And they went straight for them.

"Take cover!!" bellowed Sheppard as he pulled McKay behind one of the greater boulders that laid scattered across the entire jungle, knowing well that is not going to stop the robots when they attack. Teyla and Ronon rushed the other way, where they remembered a narrow canyon that might just stop the machines from following. And all of them started firing.

The colonel's military instincts made him immediately aim at the bestial head and chest of the nearest foe, firing an endless stream of bullets, every single one of which hit home. The faceless giant covered its chest with its right, complete arm, ending up with numerous marks and scratches left by the projectiles. But they were no more than just damaged paint job, as the robot immediately returned fire. When its gun turned towards them, Sheppard shoved McKay to a side and jumped to the other, making them both land on the ground and at the same time dodge both the blast and the rubble that flew in every direction.

It was hopeless like this. Motioning to Rodney, John ran for it, hoping to find a more resilient cover. Then he could start hoping their weapons will be effective after all.

Behind them, the faceless robot said something to its companions. It had to speak; it turned to them and uttered sounds, and they nodded in agreement before pursuing Ronon and Teyla. But what must have been words came out as nothing more than a string of unknown, meaningless sounds one could hear through jammed radio rather than in an actual language. Nonetheless, the chase has begun.

Dex and Emmagan already managed to reach the canyon and hid in in, under a shelf of thick rocks. Self-preservation told them not to make a sound, and they stood still, breathing slowly and deeply but they both knew it might well not be enough. If the attackers see them – and since they were mechanical, perhaps they could detect their life signs – they could bury them inside this very canyon in a matter of seconds. Ronon raised his faithful gun as the two robots approached, not knowing where to aim but knowing he will have to shoot.

And then one of the robots was shot at.

* * *

"I can't make it," Rodney cried as the colonel urged him onwards, slowing himself down at the same time.

"Yes you can!" he growled. "We always got out of this sort of mess, we're getting out again!"

Unfortunately, this once he did not seem to be right. The pursuing machine made only two or three steps and it was more than enough to cut their escape, apparently staring down at them with its one, bright lamp. To avoid bumping hard into its metal leg, the two humans had to halt so abruptly they both fell on their backs. Sheppard started shooting at once, but it made exactly no impression on the giant. McKay froze with fear as a hand reached down towards him.

And then the tide turned.

Something bigger that escaped the attention of the fallen men hit the robot several times, making him take a quick step backwards and straighten up. He returned fire, giving Sheppard and McKay enough time to pull themselves up and run some distance sideways. They could not ignore their curiosity and looked.

Opposite their foe stood two more robots, but they seemed different, smaller. One of them was a mixture of red, orange and yellow and painted in something that could be either wings or flames, and its companion – of a female figure – was in various shades of pink. They also bore insignia resembling a face, but this one was red, in comparison to the dark purple of their enemy, and seemed much softer.

"What the hell...?" Rodney managed to breathe out as he watched the robots battle one another.

"Who cares, we live!" said John fiercely, reloading his P-90. "He attacked us, they attacked him, I know who to aim at and so should you!"

"Do not engage!"

The two of them paused with their guns halfway up when they heard the pink robot yell those words at them, and the voice was definitely feminine. She circled her enemy to stand behind its back while her companion occupied him up front. "Stay low and we shall protect you!" she promised.

The other two exchanged some – probably – words in their own language which to the humans sounded like a string of random robotic sounds. And essentially, that was exactly what it was, no more, no less. And then the faceless one jumped up and _flew_ away without any visible jet engines nor even wings as such. It just took off suddenly, escaping crossfire.

The humans on the ground watched him make his escape with their jaws open, but Sheppard quickly snapped back to reality. "Ronon and Teyla," he said and rushed towards the canyon their friends chose for cover. The two robots exchanged gazes and followed, speeding up and getting ahead of the men when they saw the familiar figures.

Battle already raged at the cliffs. The two machines that followed Emmagan and Dex were now facing others, one each. The blackish winged robot combated one that was a combination of purple, red and grey, and actually had facial hair. The greyish winged robot, much larger, on the other hand, duelled an opponent with a broad chest and arms, a greyish hue and its face obscured by rows of narrow metal plates that looked pretty much like slat window blinds. He had strange, broad laps on both sides of his head. Both these machines were adorned with the same symbol the rescuers of Sheppard and McKay bore.

Upon seeing reinforcements, the attacking robots exchanged quick glances, a few sounds and, pushing both their opponents away, they also took off into the air. This time, however, it did not look as peculiar, with both of them having actual wings and visible jet engines in their feet. But when they were some distance from the ground, they changed.

Their elements started moving, changing positions on their bodies. Some retracted and gave way to others that protruded, some rotated, some completely disappeared inside as both robots changed shape. The wings that laid flat on the backs up till now also moved to where they would be placed on a jet and a plane. Engines took their rightful places at the rear, the glass that remained spread on the chests now joined together to form windows.

With loud clattering of metal, they transformed.

"Sweet mother of Einstein..." McKay managed to say to himself, loosing himself in the amazement. Sheppard, however, was already at the edge of the canyon, horror rising in his heart as he saw a quite large portion of it buried under rubble.

"Teyla! Ronon!" he called.

"We are alright, colonel!" the Athosian woman called back. "They did not manage to bury us!"

"What happened up there?!" yelled Ronon.

Sheppard looked at the four robots that were gathered around. "Help came! Can you get out?"

Rodney shook his head, returning back from his thoughts. "The entrance to the canyon is buried."

The red, yellow and orange robot smiled at them. He knelt by the crack in the ground, which to him seemed so much smaller than the humans, waved at the disbelieving people below, laid down and extended a hand. It barely reached the shelf they were on, but it was just enough for them to climb onto it.

"Colonel...?" Teyla asked loudly, her voice uncertain.

"It's alright," he said.

That seemed to be enough for the trapped pair. With a deep sigh of relief, the woman hoisted herself onto the hand and let the robot pull her up. Once she was safely on firm ground once more, the metallic hand was lowered again to help Ronon out.

"It's good to see you're both fine," John smiled and nodded at the three-coloured machine gratefully.

"Likewise, colonel," Emmagan also smiled. "But who are they?"

"Forgive us for not having time to introduce ourselves," the bearded robot, the greatest paradox in history, said. "I assume you are from Earth?"

"We are," said Sheppard, pointing at himself and the scientist.

The robot nodded. "Then know we are the Autobots, your allies. My name is Alpha Trion, their leader on Cybertron. She" he pointed at the female "is Elita One, leader of the Femmebots. The young one is Hot Rod," he indicated the robot that helped rescue the two humans "and finally Wheeljack, our scientist and engineer." As he was introduced, the robot retracted the odd thin plates, revealing a smiling face.

"Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard," the man began "United States Air Force, currently head military officer of the Atlantis expedition. This is doctor Rodney McKay, my chief scientist, Teyla Emmagan, my diplomat, and Ronon Dex, a bodyguard."

"We do not mean to sound ungrateful," the Athosian bowed her head humbly. "We owe you or lives. Thank you."

"Oh, it's nothing," Hot Rod grinned, clearly proud of himself. Elita One nudged him with her elbow not so carefully at all.

"You can thank us later," she said. "This area is not safe yet. I still sense Decepticons here."

Sheppard nodded to his team and swiftly reloaded the P-90. "Fall back to the jumper and we head for the gate," he ordered.

"You cannot go," said Alpha Trion.

With a deep sigh, and with a mutter of 'why of course' from Rodney, the colonel replied: "I feel like I shouldn't ask this, but why?"

"You speak of the Stargate," said the Autobot. To this John merely nodded.

Elita One seemed to look down at them apologetically. "Then know that it is in the hands of the Decepticons. You best come with us, to our base. We may speak further there."

Sheppard did not respond to that at once. He had to consider all the options – what if these... Autobots were not who they claimed they were? There was obviously more than meets the eye to them. But then again, they saved their sorry asses, unlike those other guys, who simply shot at them. Normally he would just take his men home to Atlantis and see what happens next. But they were cut off from the gate and the two things they could do was go with alien robots or be left in the wilds to fend for themselves.

He has made harder decisions before.

"Thank you," he said. "Where do we go?"

"You go nowhere," said Hot Rod cheekily, "you ride."

As if having practised this before, all four of them transformed at once.

Hot Rod became a car. Or something that resembled a car. It had the correct frame, and something that must have been wheels, although the Tau'ri could swear that no such model was ever made on Earth. The clattering parts moved quicker than the eye could follow, and it certainly could not follow them all at once, forming the outer frame as well as internal seats for the passengers.

Elita One was similar in design, also car-like. Although her silhouette appeared somewhat softer, less aggressive and show-off than the other. And she was also very, very pink.

Wheeljack, surprisingly, also transformed into a car. Or whatever that sort of vehicle was called wherever these guys came from. Although McKay was the first to suggest that he must have been faster than the rest, however bigger he appeared. His frame was slimmer, slightly oval to decrease the resistance of air as he went. At least that was what the all-knowing scientist said.

But Alpha Trion was the one to stand out. The plates from his back, that to an imaginative mind could resemble a cape, now moved upward among all the other shifting parts to form actual wings, much like the jet and the plane that attacked before. Although the Autobot's engine did not seem to be as powerful, smaller even in size and most likely in capacity.

"Pick your ride," said Wheeljack. "The rest of us will escort you."

Sheppard smirked to himself and pushed McKay towards the pink car as he approached Hot Rod. Even Ronon could not hold a smirk as the scientist nearly bumped against the Femmebot with his eyes wide and full of pure fury.

"For your information, I am _not _sitting in the pink one!"

"Anything against me?" Elita One asked sharply.

"No no no, of course not, that's not what I meant--"

"Rodney," the colonel said, already seated inside Hot Rod, however wrongly that might have sounded. "Hurry it up."

McKay later swore he had no idea how that happened, but eventually he ended up sitting inside Wheeljack while the other tree happily occupied Hot Rod.

* * *

The planet seen through the windows of a transforming alien robot was disappointingly identical to how it looked before. They spent quite a while, which felt like hours, riding at a speed definitely higher than one would see on an Earth road. Perhaps even a highway. But if the car drove itself and knew well what to do, all you needed was the emergency seatbelt and a smile on your face. One could not leave the face of Sheppard, who enjoyed himself immensely. Hot Rod noticed that and, despite the concern of Teyla and usual blankness of Ronon, he allowed himself a few stunts and detours around trees solely for the colonel's amusement. They were getting along, the two of them.

Alpha Trion could not stop himself from commenting as Wheeljack, against all loud and clear protests from his passenger, decided to compete with the younger robot in stunts. Thankfully for the humans, they did hold back, because normally this would not have gone so smoothly.

"Alright you two," said Trion after some time "that would be enough for now."

"Spoil-sport," replied Hot Rod, but he slowed down.

McKay could not express how grateful he was. "So," he began, struggling for breath, his face all red "mind telling me how did that faceless freak fly without any visible reason?"

"Who, Shockwave?" Wheeljack answered through his internal radio. "Those guys got generators that allow them to manipulate gravity to a certain extent. We Autobots do not posses such technology."

Rodney could not help but look out the window at the plane-like robot that escorted them from above. "But some of yours can fly," he observed.

"Few," said the vehicle. "It's a very... long story. We'll answer all questions in the base."

"Sure. Are we there yet?"

"_Alpha Trion to Trion Omega,"_ sounded another voice through the internal radio. "_Come in, base."_

"_This is Ultra Magnus at Trion Omega,"_ responded yet another.

"_We are returning with four human allies. Requesting entry. Code eight-one-one."_

"_Copy that, commander. Entry granted. Ultra Magnus out."_

Sheppard blinked a few times during the short conversation that reached him via Hot Rod's communication system. Amazing how very... human all that sounded. Well, no, human was a bad word. But it was almost as if he heard himself talking to one of his superiors when he wanted to return to a soccent base after a completed mission. Like Afghanistan.

He was about to ask when their carrier suddenly turned _down _at a dangerously steep slope and followed a tunnel. It was pitch black aside of Hot Rod's own lights which revealed nothing but some sort of metal on the walls, the ceiling and the floor beneath them, and ahead a darkness that was ready to swallow them. The echo that reached from behind suggested that others followed the same way in – wherever this in was; two on wheels and one clattering hard like heavy steel against steel, suggesting that Alpha Trion reverted from his plane form back to robot.

Finally, after but several seconds spent in darkness, they arrived at the end of the tunnel. It ended as abruptly as it began, leading them to a broad and tall room made in steel. Contrasting with the passage, this place was heavily lit, yet just as raw, having nothing on the walls but numerous lamps and the same red, friendly face painted all over the wall opposite the tunnel.

Hot Rod and Wheeljack opened their doors to let the passengers out.

"Are you alright, Rodney?" asked Teyla as she saw the scientist's red face and noticed his quickened breaths.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine," said McKay "just, you know, I don't respond all that well to this kind of adrenaline and-"

"He's fine," Sheppard cut in. He turned to watch the symbol that stared at them from the steel wall. "What does this mean?"

"It is the sigil of the Autobots," replied Alpha Trion, who walked over to the mural and looked up at it with what could have been reverie mixed with some sort of sadness, melancholy. "The brand that brought us together once. But it is a long story. Come. We have much to discuss."

The corridors through which he led his human guests were enormous for their size, too wide, too tall, but not at all too empty. As cold as everything seemed, being built of what could not stop resembling simple steel, the alien feeling was only enhanced with the numerous panels, optical devices that could have been security cameras and a lot of stuff they could not even name. McKay walked, looking at each and every device, asking question after question, like a child at Christmas. He did not get all the answers, though. Alpha Trion refused to respond, both annoyed and amused, and Wheeljack could hardly keep up with the flow of questions. Luckily for them, they have reached their destination.

It was, for the lack of a better word, a command centre. Two semi-circular control panels in the middle, one placed slightly higher than the other. Each of them had sophisticated holographic displays and screens, much like those that were built into the walls around them. And below them were even more panels. The whole place was lit, but dimly, most likely to allow the people inside to see all the glowing controls and displays.

Someone was already waiting for them there. Two robots – one broad and hulking, painted blue and grey. The other was smaller, with a huge cannon welded onto his shoulder, and painted military green.

They all must have been soldiers, Sheppard thought to himself. They had the feeling around them. A soldier will know a soldier. More than meets the eye with these guys, that was for sure.

The two stood up from their seats, their metallic lips curling up into smiles.

"It's good to see you made it back safely," said the bigger one. "And welcome to our guests. I am Ultra Magnus, second-in-command of this outpost. This," he pointed at the other who waved a hearty hello "is Hound."

"I'm lieut-"

"We know, colonel" Magnus interrupted him with a smile. "Elita One has transferred the data she collected about you before you arrived."

"Then, if you don't mind," McKay started, taking a few steps forward, looking around at the hulking metal figures around him as well as the command centre "I have a few questions."

Wheeljack facepalmed. "More?!"

Ultra Magnus knelt and placed his open palms before the humans. Two fit on each, and although the scientist and Ronon were highly reluctant, they climbed up along with their friends and let themselves be taken up to a huge, hard chair. There was place for each of them to sit rather comfortably, having something to rest their backs against.

"There," Magnus smiled. "Now we can answer all your questions."

"Who are you?" Sheppard asked before McKay managed to form a sentence. "I mean, exactly?"

The hulking robot looked sideways at Alpha Trion, who just took one of the seats in silence, along with the other three that just arrived. "We are autonomous robotic lifeforms from the planet Cybertron," he said. "Autobots is for short."

"And you transform into vehicles," observed Rodney. "I've never seen any technology like it, not even Lantian! How's that even possible, I mean, the energy requirements to fuel every part separately would be enormous, then there's actually designing such a pattern-"

"Rodney," Teyla cut in smoothly, her tone stern, successfully interrupting the physicist.

"We transform," Ultra Magnus confirmed, with another, more discrete, sideways glance at his superior. "Many races refer to us as Transformers for that very reason. There are many theories as how we came to be." Here he paused. "It is virtually impossible to determine what is true."

"As with all of us," John shrugged.

"What's with your personalities?" McKay went on, intending on finding out as much as humanly possible right here, right now. "Are you programmed? We've seen that happen with Replicator androids, some of them even showed individuality and became renegades-"

"We are not programmed," said Wheeljack from his seat in a far corner of the command centre. "Each of us has what we call a Spark. It gives us personalities, sense of belongingness, beauty, need for a purpose – everything you need to be someone."

"Like our hearts," the Athosian woman commented almost solemnly.

Elita One nodded, smiling at the human female. "Essentially, yes."

"So-" McKay began, but was interrupted by a sharp look from the colonel. Apparently not only the Autobot engineer was tired of his constant questions.

"Who were those guys that attacked us?" asked Sheppard. "And why are you even here?"

Alpha Trion stood up and walked over to the control panel by which the team now sat. They were quite below its level, but they were still able to see a holographic three-dimensional display of a planet. Its colours were of course transparent and somewhat faded, but one could still observe that it seemed to have no bigger water reservoirs such as an ocean or even a sea, and the surface was covered entirely by metallic constructions. A huge portion of the planet was simply torn out, revealing the faintly glowing core of the globe.

"This is Cybertron," the elder Autobot said. All four humans looked up with suddenly increased interest. For McKay it would seem impossible. "It was once a place of peace and justice, a great, powerful empire. But that could never last for long..."

He sighed quietly to himself. The hologram span slowly around, showing its entire surface. Now it was clear that most of the constructions were levelled, possibly a very long time ago, and areas around the edges of the humongous hole were left as barren wastelands. "Cybertron had power," Alpha Trion went on, his voice derived of all emotions. "And as with every artefact of power, some wanted it for good, some for evil. A civil war tore the planet apart, almost literally. Autobots fought Decepticons... and neither could win."

"What artefact?" Sheppard asked aloud and felt he might regret it.

The old robot pressed a few keys the team could not see and switched the display to show... a cube. It was covered with numerous glyphs and patterns that felt more alien that anything either of them saw during their numerous trips through the Stargates. And it seemed to be just the beginning of the story.

"The All Spark," Trion said with reverie in his voice. "Many legends surround this cube... Some say it is the Spark of Primus, the first Transformer, and who you could call our god. But whatever the truth, the All Spark had power to create life. It is what gave life to Cybertron."

"And it was also the cause of the great war," the old Autobot sighed heavily, staring at the spinning image before him. Teyla almost drew her breath, the speaker's emotions clearly rubbing off at her.

"The population divided. The Decepticons, led by Megatron, wanted power, conquest, and in order to gain that, they sought to create an army using the power of the All Spark. The Autobots, under the command of Optimus Prime, strived to stop him." Trion paused. "The war went on and on, eventually devastating the planet, leaving it lifeless and wasted."

"That is horrible..." the Athosian woman shook her head, images of worlds culled and levelled by the Wraith popping up in her head.

"Those of us that were left on Cybertron fought on in order to live another day," Alpha Trion continued. "It was a battle for survival as much as against our enemies. We needed energy, seeking every possible source of it throughout the stars..."

Rodney instinctively put an arm over the backpack which was laying next to him, but said nothing. "And you found one here."

"We traced its energy signature, and we were well aware that the Decepticons also know about it."

"We know you have it, by the way," Elita One grinned as she turned to McKay. Her expression softened to a smile when she saw his puzzled and defensive look. "Don't worry, we have no intention of taking it from you by force."

"But hang on," Sheppard interrupted yet again, to the great relief of his scientist friend "those guys that attacked us where those Decep-whatstheirname?"

The hologram swapped again, displaying the two faces the robots bore on their armours. The red, soft expression contrasted with the sharp, purple head that seemed to have no face save for the eyes.

"These are our sigils," said Alpha Trion "the Autobots and the Decepticons. This is how you can differ one from the other."

"They definitely had the purple," Ronon remarked evenly.

Ultra Magnus nodded, yet again changing the display. He showed the figures that attacked the human team before, one after the other. First, the winged robot that was coloured purple and black, who followed Teyla and Ronon into the canyon. "This is Skywarp," said Magnus "one of the jet Decepticons we know as Seekers." Next the other plane-like machine, purple and grey. "Astrotrain." Sheppard could not have _not _snorted at this. And then, last but not least, the purple robot with one single lamp instead of an eye and an arm replaced by a gun. "Shockwave."

"Charming guys," said the colonel.

"Hang on," Rodney cut in, shaking his head to put the huge dose of information in order. "You said 'those of us that were left on' that cyber planet of yours..."

"Cybertron," Hound reminded him.

"Whatever, where are the others?"

Alpha Trion looked at the four humans briefly and, after a moment of hesitation, showed them a different planet on the display. It was not perfectly round, covered mostly by water in its vast oceans and seven seas. The lands were spread all across the globe, some greater, some smaller. And it looked very, very familiar.

"Earth."


	2. Worlds Collide

Ronon Dex was the only one who did not show feelings such as amazement, disbelief, curiosity and even fear. But whether he liked it or not, just like his comrades, he felt it all, mixed together and falling apart and mixing again. The holographic image of Earth span above them slowly, revealing and hiding and revealing the lands Sheppard and McKay missed.

"Earth," said the colonel. "Why?"

Alpha Trion only shrugged his massive shoulders, emitting a somewhat clashing, metallic sound. "The All Spark drifted through space and eventually ended up on your planet. Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, followed it... and lately, so did some of our own, including our leader, Optimus Prime."

"How long ago was that?" Sheppard raised his brows.

"Less than it takes for your Earth to circle around its sun," replied the old Autobot. "But there is more..."

McKay sighed through his nose. "Would you please slow down, I can't keep up with my notes, professor." He got elbowed for that rather roughly by John, who was sitting right next to him.

"Megatron was defeated," said Ultra Magnus "and his Spark extinguished. But the All Spark was destroyed in the process... so we cannot return life to Cybertron."

Teyla looked at him sadly. She knew what he felt. She always knew what everyone felt. "That is terrible..."

"Yet we made friends," Trion replied, smiling at the woman. "The Autobots and humans of Earth are now allies, and we will be honoured to extend that alliance to your Atlantis."

Sheppard could not look more intrigued and sceptical than he already did, but there was still place to add a smile. "Such a powerful ally is always nice to have," he said. "But to arrange that, we'll need to get to Atlantis. And if the bad guys have the Stargate..."

Ultra Magnus moved to a different console and pressed a sequence of keys the human team could not follow. Lines of alien symbols none of them have seen before streamed through a screen to disappear just as quickly; they could have been letters as well as numbers, or even some sort of markings for all they knew. The Autobot looked at them carefully before turning back to his guests.

"We should be able to take you to your city in our ship," he said. "We might need to use that power source you obtained to get enough power, though."

McKay hugged his bag tighter and opened his mouth to say something, but was silenced by Teyla's sharp gaze. "If it lets us return," she said in a tone that did not consider opposition "then we should hand it over, Rodney."

Sheppard nodded at Ultra Magnus. "We also owe you our lives, so if you can get us to Atlantis, the Zee Pee Em is yours, and we'll negotiate an alliance."

* * *

Alpha Trion insisted that only he and Elita One fly off with the humans, reminding the others that they had to remain in the hidden outpost to monitor Decepticon activity and, of course, any kind of an energy signature that could be a zero-point module. Reluctantly, Ultra Magnus, Hound and a few others that were yet to return were thus grounded on the planet.

And so the human team was taken to the Autobot ship and had to pick their jaws from the ground. 'Huge' was - curiously – a huge understatement. The proportions between the ship and its crew were of course the same as between the four humans and the Earth vessels, but since the crew ranged in size from a small tree to a tall building, the craft also had to adjust. Its material seemed to differ from that of the Cybertronians, though – first and foremost, its raw colour was brownish with a hint of gold, making it resemble brass or copper more than any other terrestrial metal. In resilience it was more like triunium, or at least some naquadah alloy, making it perfect for space flight.

The interior of this ship – called the Ark – was somewhat raw, adorned only with consoles, controls and panels that could be removed to access the internal wiring and other systems. But then again, were the ships such as the Daedalus or Apollo not equally as bare? They just seemed otherwise because they were designed for people of a smaller size.

McKay was, of course, happy like a kid at Christmas. Once again his wide eyes wandered the entire ship, trying to take in every single detail, striving to remember everything they saw. And of course the scientist could not stop himself from asking series of questions and commenting on how brilliant, advanced and utterly awesome the technology was, and how much they could benefit from the alliance, and how much he wants to have a closer look at exactly everything and learn.

"How come you have life support?" sounded one of the many questions. "You're robots, don't tell me you need oxygen..."

"We need air to cool our internal systems," Elita One replied without turning around from the main power unit. "And as for oxygen filtration, we had the need to transport organic life forms before, so we readjusted the Ark's life support."

Rodney watched her open a panel in the metallic pillar, revealing huge conduits and some glowing crystalline items that together formed a curious pattern, much like a net. The other humans preferred to follow Alpha Trion to the bridge where Sheppard was to help him plot a course for Atlantis.

"Give me the zero-point module," said the pink Femmebot calmly.

Reluctantly, the physicist opened his backpack and handed her the power source, which to her seemed so tiny and innocent. Who would suspect it of being a complete, closed universe with its own subspace-time that provided unimaginable power?

Smiling gratefully, Elita One placed the module among the wires and, picking a few of the smaller and thinner ones, attached it to the power unit. It lit up, signalling that it is on-line and ready.

"With this, we should be able to reach your city within four days," said the Autobot. "We can also pick up some supplies of nourishment for you on our way should your own run out."

Whether it was true that they would get home so fast or not, none of them knew; but faced with no other choice, they took off, instantly circling the planet to hide from Decepticon sensors on its other side. Seemingly unnoticed, they continued on their journey, headed straight for the lost and found city of Atlantis. Though equipped with nothing similar to hyperdrive technology, the Ark picked up remarkable speed that made McKay just stare out the front window and watch the stars go by. Their velocity matched, or perhaps even exceeded that of their most efficient Asgard hyperdrives.

But back on the planet, from the jungle near the entrance to Trion Omega, something also took off. A large, bird-like shape flew as high as the clouds and disappeared within them, silent like a hunter.

And it headed for the Stargate.

* * *

Despite everyone's expectations, the hall was not dark. Not every corner and not every single panel on the wall was lit, but there was enough lamps to illuminate the corridors and rooms built in cold, raw metal. Located on the dark side of the planet's moon, the base had natural cover, being already hidden from the light of the local sun. Still the security was high, with as many guards as such a small outpost could need and as many patrols as the corridors could harbour. Thanks to a sophisticated energy consumption system and specifically designed circuitry patterns, the outpost's energy sources provided only the bare minimum, successfully hiding their own signatures from most sensors.

This was exactly where the bird figure headed, having passed the Stargate and its guards.

Right now a much bigger, broader and somewhat hulking robot crossed the metal halls, his footsteps heavy and just as metallic as everything around him. The mechanical bird sat on his outstretched arm like a faithful falcon waiting for a hunt. Its master was blue and white, with his face covered behind a plate and eyes obscured by a glass visor. There was no expression, not even a face as such to show any. And the mechanoid was silent.

Upon reaching his destination, he bowed his head slightly in a brief show of humble obedience. Before him stood a simple throne, painted black, and upon it a purple figure. This robot had his head shaped like a three-pointed crown, matching the position in which he was sitting and most certainly his power over others in this outpost – and many beyond.

"My spies return," the robot grinned widely upon seeing the other enter. "What have you got for me, Soundwave?"

"The Autobots posses the power source," the expressionless robot said in a voice that matched his appearance, a careless monotone, flattened even further by the computer-like effects that overlapped it. "Humans recovered it."

"Humans?" the other stared Soundwave down with his red, brightly lit optics. "There are no humans anywhere in this solar system!"

"They came through the Stargate."

His superior paused for a brief moment. The other decided to continue passing on the news and said: "Two left with the humans to their main base in Pegasus. ETA: four days."

"Did you manage to determine the coordinates of their destination?"

"Affirmative."

The purple robot laughed loudly, insanely so, almost ready to clap and rub his hands as the plot progressed according to his evil plan. "Excellent! Withdraw the forces stationed on the planet, we will follow the Autobots and the humans to destroy their beachhead in this galaxy!"

Soundwave bowed. "As you command, Galvatron."

* * *

It was a beautiful day in Tranquillity, Nevada.

Sam Witwicky stretched, watching the calm lake shimmer in midday sun as his girlfriend hugged him from behind. The wind was warm and soft, his yellow Camaro was parked right next to them, Miles climbed a tree a few feet away. A plain perfect day.

A year has passed since... those events and nothing has transpired since then. He was still in touch with the Autobots, and from what they told him, the enemy was nowhere to be seen. At least for now. The world was oblivious, even though it seemed a miracle to cover up the events that nearly levelled Mission City.

Soon he was going to college. He has the car, he has the girl, he has a nice and calm life.

What could go wrong?

He instantly regretted that thought as his phone rang.

"Answer it," said Mikaela after a longer moment of waiting.

"I'm so going to regret this," the boy sighed and and reached to his pocket to get the phone. The number was restricted. "Hello?"

"_Am I talking to Samuel James Wickidy?"_ asked a low, somewhat harsh voice.

"It's Wit-wicky," Sam corrected him almost automatically. Everyone kept mispronouncing his family name. It even stopped being annoying. "Who's this?"

"_Major General Hank Landry of the United States Air Force,"_ replied the man._"I am calling with some very important information."_

Sam looked sideways at the parts of Mikaela he could see behind his shoulder, and she did seem to have heard the words spoken through her boyfriend's phone. Her eyebrows were raised in puzzlement matching his own, and she probably had the same questions to ask.

"What information?" Sam inquired.

"_Are you alone?"_

There was a moment's silence. "Yes."

"_We know of your robot friends,"_ said the general in a surprisingly conversational tone. "_Secretary Keller needs them, so we want you to round them up and bring them to Area 51."_

The boy blinked several times, his amazement and certain disbelief rising even more. He thought he got used to the idea of being friends with aliens and should have been expecting... things, anything to happen. And yet the thought that he might have to sacrifice something in his perfect little life was somewhat unappealing.

"Area 51," he said. "Why? Is there another crisis threatening to destroy Earth?" It was not meant to be funny, and most definitely did not sound like it. It was not meant as sarcasm, either. The question came out flat, emotionless and terrifyingly serious.

"_There is a certain matter that needs their attention," _Landry replied. _"But I'm afraid you don't have the security clearance to hear about it."_

"You're joking, right... sir?" Sam said before he could stop himself. He glanced quickly at Miles who waved at him, and lowered his voice a bit. "I've seen Megatron frozen under Hoover Dam and I've destroyed the All Spark, and you're telling me I don't have security clearance?"

The general was silent for a longer moment. _"I was going to offer giving you one,"_ he said and the boy could hear the smile in his voice _"but I guess you're right, you already have one. I will have your parents and your college authorities notified if you choose to come to Area 51 with your friends."_

Mikaela heard every word the general said, and only smiled when the offer was made. Life was good as it was now, but she sensed that something was not entirely right. Sam kept telling her how happy he is that his life was 'normal', as he put it, but she knew that deep inside he wanted something more to happen. Last year's events made him feel special, sort of a chosen one, and she could bet her right arm that he wanted to feel that again.

For what boy in the world has lived such an adventure with alien robots?

When he hung up and stuffed the phone back into his pocket, she knew one thing.

He will go to Area 51.

* * *

The crescent moon rose high above Nevada, and there was not a single cloud to disturb it.

The night was quiet safe for the typical, almost necessary cricket unseen somewhere in the distance. The city was no different; even though the streets were lit and some neons still glowed in the darkness over shops and bars, all in all it was serene, with the kind of serenity one can find only in a city that lives loud at daylight and dies at night.

But something did move. Near the outskirts of Tranquillity stood a series of large warehouses, monitored around the clock due to the value of everything and anything that was stored within them. Next to the bare, simple constructions stood more bare and simple buildings, but these served as garages for large trucks that were driven daily to deliver goods here and there. The security cameras registered theft – a Peterbilt truck was driven out of one of the garages and quickly past the gates, naturally breaking the lock to force the way through. There would be a huge investigation as to who hijacked the blue truck painted in red flames.

What the cameras did not register, however, was that there was no one driving it.

* * *

Area 51 proved to be surprisingly dull on the outside. A rather flat, though tall, concrete bunker in the middle of nowhere, surrounded solely by sand and military guard units. Tanks, military cars, soldiers – this might seem interesting and perhaps even exciting, but definitely not to someone who has been to Mission City a year ago.

The road proved harsh, mainly because at one point there was no road. The convoy of cars – a Peterbilt truck, a yellow-greenish rescue vehicle and of course a yellow Camaro – had to cross miles of soft, hot sand which made it very difficult for all three. None of them were actually driven; the teenager boy in the Camaro occupied the driver's seat, but was not really doing anything aside of snoring rather loudly. Out here in the harsh desert it mattered not as there was no one to see it and wonder. And those they were to meet already knew.

They were allowed into the complex because of Captain William Lennox, who already awaited them there. A smile adorned his handsome face, one that not has changed at all during the year. His GMC Topkick was nowhere to be seen, however, and Sam, snapped back to reality, was more than certain he had to arrive with it.

There was also another man waiting with the soldier,s lightly broader in frame but by no means overmuscled and with a round face. His eyes emanated friendliness and comfort, as if those two were this man's entire world.

Woken up but still not entirely sober, the boy climbed out of his car and instantly narrowed his eyes in the bright desert light. It was exactly the same as in his home town, but still the air was so different it was hard to stand either of the two. Apparently the two-man welcoming committee felt exactly the same.

"Hey, Sam," Lennox smiled, shaking the yawning boy's hand. "Had a nice trip?"

"Oh yeah, splendid," Sam replied flatly, clearly indicating that was not the case. "What's up?"

"It's a bit o' a long story," the other man said with a clear Scottish accent, smiling at the boy as well. "Ah'm Carson Beckett, surgeon, geneticist an' field medic."

"Sam Witwicky," the captain introduced his friend, seeing as he was about to yawn again instead of uttering any coherent words. "The one the Air Force told you about."

The boy blinked, putting his thoughts back in order. Behind him the three vehicles lined up, their fronts to him as if staring at the scene before them, surrounded by soldiers but at the same time almost ignored. As if it was completely normal for cars to drive themselves and act alive.

"The Air Force...?" he blinked again, focusing his still slightly blurred gaze at Beckett.

"Aye," said the surgeon. "We are both participatin' in top secret government projects, son," he smiled "an' Ah'm 'ere to tell ye of one."

Nodding, Sam turned back to Lennox. "Where's Ironhide?"

"Inside and waiting," said the captain. He nodded towards the Peterbilt truck, knowing that even though cars have no eyes and such, he is seen and heard clearly. "There's a hangar over there," he pointed at one of the seemingly identical buildings. "It's connected with the rest of the complex, including the parts that run underground. You can transform inside and go down, you'll meet Ironhide."

The tree vehicles instantly fired up their own engines and drove towards the hangar. The guards on duty moved out of their way and even further away, just in case. They were not afraid – you see many weird and alien things if you are stationed in Area 51 – but it was best to steer clear when you do not know what to expect. But every single person that was there at the time could swear the cars smiled at Lennox as they drove past.

"We'll meet you down there," the captain called after them.

Beckett smiled at the boy, trying to hide his anxiety and certain fear. He never was a fan of such fancy technology. "Shall we, then?"

He led them to the parts of Area 51 that were built underground, to shield from heat as much as to hide whatever was inside from sight. The three men entered through an elevator that must have gone quite deep down and a series of concrete corridors. Once in a while they passed a door that led to some larger room – hangar? - on their side, which could have been an office, a storage area or even a lab where scientists studied little green or grey men of Roswell.

Funny how Sam had no idea how close he was to the truth.

"What's in here?" he asked aloud, looking around at his surroundings. The corridor had many lamps that lit it well, emergency phones, fire extinguishers, emergency exit signs... everything that was necessary should anything go wrong. Which also implied that it might.

"Samples an' technology we obtained through t'Stargate Program," said Beckett evenly. Lennox did not seem as surprised as the boy, still he looked at the doctor curiously.

"Stargate Program," he repeated as if trying to make sure he heard well.

"Aye," the Scotsman replied with a slight nod. "The Stargate is an alien ring device that allows travel t'other planets."

"With no need for ships?" asked Sam, stepping sideways away from a door sealed shut and covered with a 'keep out' tape.

Beckett shook his head. "It's instant," he explained. "The US government has been usin' it t'explore the universe for the past fifteen years."

Lennox cleared his throat rather diplomatically, but the other two clearly understood that he felt kind of angry that he gets to find out of this after all this time. Surely, everyone would like to know of such excursions... and such a device. He, for one, was already aware of one race that was out there in deep space.

But then again, he also saw the foes.

"So where is this Stargate?" he asked.

"Colorado," Beckett said at once with a small smile. "Cheyenne Mountain, under NORAD."

William looked through a window briefly as they passed it, taking a turn. He caught a glimpse of men in white coats bending over... something that was laying on a desk. That something was very purple, darkly so, and seemed organic in nature.

"So what did you find out in space?" he asked, trying hard not to wonder what that thing was.

"A lot o'stuff," Beckett grinned. "Other races, technology, cultures... Even Atlantis herself."

Lennox and Sam stopped in their steps together, as if synchronized, and just stared at the doctor who realized moments later. He turned around to look back at the other two, his expression soft and not at all surprised.

"Aye," he confirmed before they asked. "We found Atlantis."

"_The _Atlantis?" the boy blinked slowly. "As in, the sunken city?"

"The very same," the doctor nodded and waved a hand, urging them to go forth. "C'mon, we're almost there."

"Where is Atlantis?" Sam inquired further.

"Another galaxy," Beckett replied indifferently. "Truth is, lad, we found a lot o'stuff out there, but we never got the answer t'whom he is."

Lennox narrowed his eyes. "He?"

"Ah believe they called him... N.B.E.-1."

Sam and the captain exchanged glances that said exactly everything. "Megatron," they said together.

"You wanted to know where he's from," Sam continued the thought he apparently shared with his military friend.

"But it appears we've been lookin' in the wrong place all the time," Beckett shrugged his shoulders lightly, approaching one of the thicker blast doors labelled S-7. Sam and Lennox looked at the mark and then at one another again, but said nothing. It did not have to mean anythin. They were probably going to find out soon enough, anyway.

"We know now," the Scotsman grinned and nodded to a guard.

The blast doors were opened to reveal the four Cybertronian robots standing in a huge hangar. The place seemed to have an opening roof, what suggested that normally there were some sort of aircrafts stationed here. There were also numerous computers and other devices that usually took readings and tools used to building and adjusting, many of which did not look terrestrial at all. Right now there was one big screen set by a wall, connected to some sort of movable control panel and a number of smaller screens on the sides.

Standing before it, the four robots smiled down at Sam and his companions and were immediately introduced to Beckett. Bumblebee, the smallest of them, with a very friendly expression even though the features of his face hardly moved, and also very yellow. Ratchet, the medical officer of a greenish-yellow hue and a rather stern, but not harsh face. Ironhide, the show-off weapons specialist who in many ways reminded the Scotsman of his own specialist friend, Ronon Dex. And last but definitely not least, the largest robot, blue with flames painted upon him. Their wise and noble leader – Optimus Prime.

"Mah pleasure..." Beckett said, clearly uncomfortable in the presence of such mighty and very sophisticated, yet still machines.

"So," Sam cut the formalities rather cruelly "what's this all about?"

"We've got an alliance to forge for the good of the entire universe," a cheerful voice said with a clear hint of sarcasm. A handsome man in his mid-50s approached, dressed loosely and comfortably, yet still there was a certain aura of authority and confidence around him. Pretty much the same way it was present around the Prime.

"Major General Jack O'Neill," he introduced himself. "I know who you are, I saw what you did there, and we're pretty much stuck here until we hear from Atlantis." He then turned to look at Lennox with both eyebrows raised. "At ease, captain."

"Sir," said William "what's the deal with Atlantis?"

O'Neill turned and spread his arms, indicating the huge screen before himself. "This little big baby will send a stream of data through subspace towards the city of Atlantis in the Pegasus galaxy and they will send us a stream of data back on the same route through subspace so we can communicate." He turned back to the three men. "Least that's what a geek told me when I asked."

Sam tried hard not to cough at that comment. "Communicate with whom?" he asked instead.

"My men out there in the other galaxy," said the general. "Apparently they've stumbled across some of these guys," he pointed at the Autobots "and they want to talk about their alliance with us here on Earth and those at the other end of the wormhole."

The boy turned to Prime, whose expression thus far remained rather blank, if amused by the general's attitude and manner of speech. "Did you know about this?"

"We have received word that some of the surviving Autobots are stationed in the Pegasus galaxy in search of energy sources," replied Optimus. "But we have not heard from them in months." His voice was firm, but there was a clear shade of anxiety in it. And no wonder. Optimus Prime cared about his men. He cared about his people. He cared about everyone.

"We just have to wait," O'Neill said. "When they're ready to communicate, we'll get a word from Stargate Command and have a nice little chat with the Atlantis team, the Pegasus robo-thingies and the Secretary of Defense."

Silence followed as Sam Witwicky, William Lennox and Carson Beckett tried to digest everything they just heard. Trying to break the newly forming ice, the general clapped his hands.

"So," he tried "sausage in a bun anyone?"

* * *

John Sheppard stared out the front window of the Ark into space, watching the stars go by. They zoomed past countless little lights that in truth were enormous, super-heated bodies already, yet still there seemed to be an infinity more where those came from. The universe is vast, he remembered someone say, and big, and dark, and deep. Funny how different it all looked from the Daedalus. The hyperspace stream that took them from Earth to Atlantis and back again was... well, a stream. A bright blue tunnel that filled the empty space between stars. There was nothing like this here.

He was good with empty spaces. But the Ark was... well, an empty closed space, so to say. Locked in all the metal walls, yes, but made for someone much larger than Sheppard and thus also very... big. Almost too big for him. He was not the only one uncomfortable, too, although perhaps not for the same reason. He could sense that Ronon would very much prefer to be back home in Atlantis, and same went for Teyla, always worried about her man and their child. The only one not bothered by anything was of course Rodney McKay who walked around the place around Alpha Trion as if glued to him and prodded, asking questions, trying to learn and observe. This was, most certainly, very tiring for the old Autobot, but thankfully he tried not to show it.

"Is everything alright?" Elita One asked, approaching the front panels where Sheppard sat. He looked up at her, blinking, brought back to... well, not exactly the ground, but to his feet.

"Yeah, just thinking," he replied, turning back towards the window. He preferred to watch the empty space rather than the empty corridors, for some reason.

"What about?" she inquired further, her voice deep and soft, calmingly so.

The colonel shrugged. "I got a stupid feeling... When something good happens, something has to go wrong, you know what I mean?"

"We are nearing your planet," she said softly, a smile on her robotic features, effectively dismissing the rhetoric question. Perhaps she did not want to answer. Perhaps she had an answer he did not like. "You will need to speak to your superiors again, before we land."

Sighing rather heavily to himself, the man got up to his feet and nodded up at the Femmebot. "Get me to the radio then."

Elita One picked him up carefully with one metallic and very pink hand and carried him towards the main communications console. It felt awkward for the soldier – maybe because he was being carried by, de facto, a woman, even if the difference between her and a man was just the exoskeleton. Or maybe it was because she was three or so times bigger than him, stronger, more experienced? Hell knew. He preferred not to wonder.

She put him on the console and he straightened up, careful not to step on any button. This was even more awkward, but he had to start getting used to it. From there he could see Ronon and Teyla sitting by the edge of the front window; the Satedan waved at him. He also heard Alpha Trion approaching from the corridor – mainly thanks to McKay's loud and infinite stream of yapping.

The stars outside started to slow down as Elita One moved to the navigations console and shut the autopilot off, slowly decelerating, pulling the Ark to a halt even before it reached the planet's high orbit. The globe was clearly visible, catching the attention of both Dex and Emmagan, who were now staring at it and trying to spot their home so close, yet so far below. But all they could make out was the small bit of land on this watery planet.

The Femmebot returned to Sheppard and pressed a sequence of keys on the console, right before him. He stepped back carefully, not wanting to be accidentally hit and – God forbid – knocked back by her swift, quickly moving and very hard robotic fingers.

"We have a channel," she announced. "Speak, Sheppard."

He cleared his throat, standing almost _on _the main speaker. "This is Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard, come in, Atlantis."

Silence answered him at first, making even McKay finally shut up. Then, finally, a familiar voice replied through the radio: "This is Atlantis, we hear you, Sheppard."

"Mr Woolsey," the soldier sighed inwardly. "Never thought I'd be this happy to hear you."

"What's your status, colonel?" asked Woolsey, in his usual, professional manner.

"We're near the planet now and awaiting orders, as previously instructed," said Sheppard. It was no use trying to be casual with The Man if he wanted to impress his superiors or outsiders with the way he ran things in the city. He will learn, Sheppard kept telling himself. They all did.

Woolsey asked: "How many... what was the word? Autobots are there with you?"

"Only two," replied John. "Their names are Elita One and Alpha Trion."

"You can introduce us later, colonel," his superior cut smoothly. "Please forward your IDC for confirmation."

Sighing, this time rather loudly, Sheppard reached to one of his jacket's many pockets and produced the so-called GDO, a remote-like device equipped with leather strips that made it possible to wear it on one's forearm should the need – or will – arise. He pressed a series of sixteen buttons, both numbers and letters, and stuffed the device back where he usually kept it.

A moment of silence followed again before Woolsey announced: "You have permission to land on... by the eastern pier. Woolsey out."

Just as suspected, the Ark was somewhat too big to land on the pier, being docked right next to it in the water instead. Fortunately such a situation has been foreseen and prepared, allowing the Ark to – surprise – transform its bottom side and float. The welcoming committee, consisting of Woolsey himself, doctor Radek Zelenka, the Czech scientist and three security teams, was waiting at the pier, staring at the alien ship that resembled nothing any of them has seen before.

Finally the metal door slid aside, revealing a bit of the ship's interior, which was just as metal, just as electronic and just as bare. A ramp protruded, touching the ornate pier of Atlantis and soon the familiar figure of John Sheppard appeared. He waved at the waiting men in a casual greeting, and then waved again to dismiss the security teams. Much to Woolsey's dismay, the soldiers stood at ease, as ordered. The other three – McKay, Dex and Emmagan – soon followed. After them, in the door, paused the two robots.

Richard Woolsey's eyes immediately wandered towards the Autobots, somewhat wide, but the man was a master in masking emotions – in this case, amazement and slight fear. You had to be cautious when in another galaxy. Especially when dealing with beings this... different. One robot was enormous and it had _hair_, believe it or not, the other smaller and clearly feminine.

And all this was odd.

Sheppard blinked and then grinned slightly, seeing the man's expression and where his eyes were fixed. "Mr Woolsey," he started "that's the Autobots. Meet Elita One and Alpha Trion. Robots," he turned to his mechanical friends, who simply smiled back at him "this is Mr Woolsey, in charge of the city."

The Cybertronians walked forward, the Ark's ramp retracting and its door shutting behind them. "It is an honour," said the Femmebot as they both knelt not to tower over the humans too much, what proved rather hard. "It pleases us to meet our friends from Earth even so far from their homeworld."

"We are equally as honoured," said Woolsey diplomatically, but Sheppard could sense the strain in his voice. The words were somewhat forced. "We have already contacted our superiors back in Stargate Command on Earth. A temporary communications centre is being built on the northern pier as we speak."

Alpha Trion smiled at this. Every Autobot out there knew who was currently stationed – alright, grounded – on Earth, and they all wanted to know they – he – is well. Optimus Prime was a hero. "I am sure we all will benefit from this friendship," he said out loud.

"You must forgive us, though," said Woolsey, only nodding "but because you simply will not fit in the city we cannot offer you proper hospitality..."

"That is alright," Elita One said, straightening up and looking down at the man who, even though polite, was somewhat irritating. "We will remain on the Ark until the preparations have been completed."

One could hardly imagine that anything could go wrong, yet Sheppard could not shake off that feeling when he and his team proceeded to the briefing room to fill Woolsey in on the rest of the details from their unexpected, prolonged absence. They found out about the second of USA's greatest secrets, and that is the alliance with Cybetronians. Autobots were now in Atlantis, ready to assist them in any way possible and teach them in exchange for the very same, and that is something he, for one, was willing to provide. But still something was not right.

He had no idea how painfully right he was.

Up on one of the lesser towers of Atlantis, unseen by sensors thanks to a masked energy signature, a bird-like figure sat and observed it all.

Laserbeak was watching them.


	3. The Protector

Atlantis was more alive than ever in these past few years. Things kept happening, of course, but at one point it all started to become routine. Wraith attacks, some new research material, a friendly society willing to trade, or a hostile society shooting arrows and making McKay squeal like a girl – all in all, it was nothing new. And finally something different awoke Atlantis, almost literally. It seemed as if the very city was happy for the change, although no one inside was able to say how they knew it.

The temporary communications centre they were preparing ever since Sheppard informed them about the Autobot visitors has been moved outside to the eastern pier. So far it consisted of the biggest display screen the science crew managed to find – Lantian in design, of course – and two smaller screens installed at its sides. There was also a narrow but broad panel that held the three together; it was covered with lines of Lantian control crystals similar to those on the city's Stargate dialling device. The men in uniforms designated blue for physics were now making the final adjustments to the whole thing under the watchful and of course very perceptive eye of Rodney McKay.

The two Autobot guests were watching with slight amusement as he ordered his team around. In some aspects, the man reminded the two robots of one of their own whom they knew as Perceptor.

"So how is this going to work?" Alpha Trion asked, sitting cross-legged on the smooth pier.

"Well," Rodney began and every human around him braced for a long lecture "some time ago we – me and another scientist, very hot, though not as brilliant as me – prepared and established what we call the Intergalactic Gate Bridge."

The two mechanoids exchanged quick glances, but it was more about the comment regarding the other scientist then the idea which McKay was explaining. Mercifully, they decided to keep quiet and listened to him continue:

"It is essentially a chain of specifically positioned gates that lead to the void between galaxies where one can enter a similar chain of Milky Way gates."

Elita One looked up to the sky, to her own surprise as much as much as anyone else's. The Autobots know of the Stargates, but any details regarding their origin, construction and how they actually worked still remained a mystery. They were aware of the possible journeys through subspace – they themselves used it for communication over great distances – but the so called space bridges built on Cybertron, which also based on subspace travel, were far from perfect. Finding the proper materials caused the loss of many scientists, and malfunctioning coordinating systems sent even more bold mechanoids Primus knows where. The space bridge research cost to much, both lives and resources, and was hardly moving forward, what caused the scientists to abandon it long before the Great War that ravaged Cybertron.

But in this case, the Transformers had a significant advantage over organic life forms – they were not restricted by time. As helpful as the space bridges would be, the Cybertronians could allow themselves a longer trip on a ship.

"So how does one use this bridge?" Elita One asked, moving her eyes back to McKay.

"It's simple," Rodney said in his usual, somewhat patronizing tone he reserved for lectures on his brilliant ideas. "I have written special macros which activate one Stargate on the way, dial the next in line, then the next until they reach the end. So in other words, we dial from here and the macro activates the entire bridge in Pegasus, a special team stationed in a jumper between the galaxies uploads the second macro, dials the Milky Way bridge and connects us to Stargate Command on Earth, who, in turn, will relay our transmission to the US Secretary of Defence and your robot friends in Area 51. Or the other way around."

"Sounds simple enough," Alpha Trion replied as he and the Femmebot smiled. The expressions were genuine and there was real, honest understanding in them.

Rodney felt like crying. He finally met someone who just might keep up with him.

* * *

But his happiness was not to last long.

Laserbeak proved to be the perfect spy. From afar he simply resembled a huge bird, and thanks to his very developed ability to lower his energy signatures he remained undetected by the city's sensors. Still able to observe and forward careful, short data streams through subspace, the mechanical bird positioned itself on a spire of Atlantis, behind its ornate panels where the naked eye could not see.

He watched. He waited.

For someone was already on their way.

* * *

Finally Stargate Command sent word to O'Neill that everything is ready for the intergalactic meeting, as well as the exact date and time when it was supposed to happen. The general, Sam Witwicky, William Lennox, doctor Beckett, looking more nervous than excited, and of course the four Autobots were waiting in the hangar that has been temporarily redone as a communications centre. They hardly spoke to one another since they gathered, and that very silence made each of them wonder what the others are thinking. But none of them were willing to ask.

O'Neill was the only one not betraying any anxiety nor excitement. He just paced before the rest in a short line, a headset on him, staring at his wristwatch and tapping it in rhythm as he hummed. Finally, halting rather abruptly, he activated the headset's microphone and said:

"This is O'Neill, come in Stargate Command."

"_This is Stargate Command_," he heard a female voice reply via the radio. "_We read you, sir._"

The man smiled. "Ah, Carter. All set there?"

"_Yes, sir_," Carter confirmed. "_We have just completed the final tests. Everything is operational._"

"Dial the gate."

The silence that fell after those words faded made Sam expect something to at least explode. The atmosphere in the room was rather thick, at least to him, but with the thickness that suggests only anticipation of something great, glorious. He felt like, once again, he is living the greatest sci-fi movie or show ever.

But nothing great nor glorious happened. Instead, the screens placed before them flashed on-line. On one of them Sam recognized the Secretary of Defence whom he met last year, briefly, under Hoover Dam. On another he saw the face of a blond, friendly-looking woman with a headset, probably the person O'Neill was talking to a moment ago. On the third, biggest display was a man Sam wanted to describe as 'bureaucrat', with glasses and in a tuxedo. Behind him sat two robots, one female, with the Autobot sigil on their chests.

The boy smiled.

"Welcome, everyone," said the first face "ladies, gentlemen and robots alike. Thank you for joining us on this most historical day, not only for Earth and its off-world colony, but also Cybertron, as I hope. Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am John Keller, United States Secretary of Defence. I speak in the name of our president, and therefore our entire nation."

O'Neill waited patiently for him to finish. "Major General Jack O'Neill, Office of Homeworld Security," he said surprisingly casually. "I speak for myself, but I got those robots here with me that can speak for the rest."

"Richard Woolsey of the IOA," said the man on the biggest screen. "In charge of the Atlantis expedition in the Pegasus galaxy. I, too, have... robotic guests with me."

Sam looked sideways to see the gentle smile on Optimus' metal face. It was all proof he needed. Whoever those Cybertronians out there were, they were definitely friends. Good friends.

"Colonel Samantha Carter," said the blond woman "United States Air Force, stationed at Stargate Command."

Keller was smiling in a slightly annoying, formal way all through the introductions, what made him look no better than the overly serious, stone-faced Woolsey. And Witwicky knew that it is not the kind of man Keller really is. And for some reason It hurt to see the better side of him under this mask.

"Once again, thank you all for attending, those who will speak and those who will not," said the Secretary. "A year ago a great battle took place in Mission City, not far from Hoover Dam. We have tried to cover those events, but with such a number of eye witnesses, rumours still travel the country. Some of you already know that it was was a fight between two factions of alien robots, some of which proved to be more than allies. They are friends, the Autobots."

With this, his smile slightly widened as he seemed to look at Optimus Prime, but it was not easy to tell with this amount of screens. But the machanoid smiled back, nodding. "It is an honour to live among a race as great as the humans. For those of you who do not know, I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. Here on Earth, standing beside me, I have my trusted friends and officers, Ironhide, Ratched and Bumblebee."

Sam saw Woolsey blink at the mention of the yellow robot, possibly amused by the name. He himself often wondered how come alien mechanical beings address themselves using names and words from Earth, but never asked. Perhaps they are merely translations or other equivalents of their original names, but then again, do they even have bumblebees on Cybertron?

Woolsey turned away from the screen for a moment and nodded at the two mechanoids behind himself, his face as stone as ever.

"And I am Alpha Trion," said the larger of the two, the paradox of a machine with a beard and moustache. "This is Elita One, leader of the Femmebots. We stumbled upon a group of humans from Atlantis while battling Decepticons over a power source."

"So they reached the other galaxy as well," Ironhide mused out loud, but said nothing more, silenced by Prime's raised hand.

"We are not here to discuss the Decepticons," Optimus said calmly. "Alpha, Elita, I am glad to see you are alright."

Trion smiled. "We are, and so are the others. They agree that an official alliance between our two races can benefit both sides greatly."

Keller nodded at this, but the question he wanted to ask was spoken out loud not by him, but by colonel Carter. "I can see how much we could learn from you," she said "you being pieces of very advanced technology all by yourselves, much exceeding what we have. But what could we offer you in exchange?"

"Energy," Prime said without hesitation. "Our homeworld is dying and now there is nothing we can do for it. We spread across galaxies in search of energy sources that would ensure our survival. You humans have it in abundance."

Before the Secretary managed to reply, Elita One added, her leader's words not having faded completely: "That, and subspace technologies."

Carter blinked. "Subspace technologies?"

"We on Cybertron have been researching wormholes as well," said the pink Femmebot calmly. "But our space bridges that were to allow instant travel through subspace have been a failure and the Senate ordered the project to be abandoned millions of your Earth years ago. Perhaps through study of your Stargate we will be able to construct an operational space bridge suited for our sizes and needs."

O'Neill said nothing, however surprised that a sentient, self-aware robot would want to learn from a seemingly inferior race. But instead of wondering about it, he observed the face of Richard Woolsey whose self-control failed for a fraction of a second. It was enough for the general to see the clear doubt and unwillingness in his eyes, and he did not have to ponder why.

Someone has constructed their own gate before. Woolsey fears they are dealing with another race like the Ori.

"I for one am willing to give you access to everything we have on the Stargate," said Keller "as well as an actual device for you to study. Now-"

He did not finish, taken aback as the biggest screen – the one that connected them to the distant city of Atlantis – suddenly died and stood before them completely blank. O'Neill did not seem so surprised, though. He simply turned to Carter and asked:

"It's been thirty-eight minutes already?"

She shook her head, staring sideways at one of Stargate Command's main monitors. "No, sir," she said "the wormhole is stable and will be for the next five minutes." She then turned on the microphone in her headset and asked: "Atlantis, do you read me?"

There was silence as Carter's face became slightly more serious than a moment ago, but she did not say anything more, not yet.

"And?" O'Neill prodded.

"They're under attack, sir."

* * *

The fire came out of nowhere, at first. Energy shots flew towards the assembly on the eastern pier, but seemingly very random, not aimed at anything specific. The civilians panicked and rushed back to the city, hoping for some shelter. The others prepared themselves, observing.

Several figures approached from above. They were huge, and the closer they came, the less human they appeared. Their faces resembled those of humans, but very vaguely, being sharper in features and almost feral. Most of them were coloured purple, in various shades, with some additions of blue – save for one. He stood out with his white and dark blue, like deep ocean, also because his face was entirely hidden by a mask and a glass visor.

And every single one bore a purple, pointy face.

"Decepticons," Elita One hissed as pieces protruded from her right forearm and formed a cannon, which she immediately aimed at the incoming robots. Alpha Trion did the same, waving for the humans to run and hide.

Sheppard looked at Rodney, who was already crouched behind the smouldering remains of the communications centre, his own faithful P-90 in hand. He activated his headset quickly. "This is Sheppard, we have an emergency. Everyone with the ATA gene pick a jumper and assault hostiles on the eastern pier, other armed hands provide ground backup."

Whatever he would want to say next never got out as he had to dodge sideways to avoid an energy blast that flew right at him. He ducked next to McKay and – surprisingly – Woolsey.

"Mr Woolsey, get inside the city," he ordered. "Prepare the civilians for possible evacuation to the Alpha Site."

"But-"

"Not now, please!" Sheppard hissed, shoving the man forward. "Just do it!"

Richard finally complied and ran for one of the city's many ornate doors, keeping low as the shots around him became more and more accurate. He had to push his way through as ground backup emerged – several armed men, hopefully the first wave of many.

Alpha Trion's massive feet covered them from well-aimed shots of one of the Decepticons he has never seen before. The robot was dark blue with hints of purple here and there and as inhuman as befitted a Decepticon. His fingers resembles talons and the wings on his back where pitch black and bat-like. He even had a goatee, which could have been amusing had the situation not been so serious.

"Step aside, ancient one," said the stranger in a high-pitched, raspy voice. "You cannot interfere with the new order."

The reply to that was a simple shot that flew squarely at the Decepticon's chest, yet never actually reached it, blocked by the two wings that covered the robot like a cloak. But instead of firing back, the mechanoid leapt forward at his opponent, nearly knocking them both off balance and onto a wall.

"_Colonel Sheppard_," sounded the radio "_jumpers are standing by."_

John took a deep breath of what he hoped was relief covering his fears. This did not look well. "Cloak and approach targets," he ordered. "Fire at will."

Some distance from the battle, a roof of one of the spires of Atlantis slid open, but nothing appeared, nothing emerged. The Decepticons seemed oblivious to the new strike force that was quickly closing in on their position.

Then, suddenly, the white and blue robot with his face hidden turned around and said in a low, emotionless and very robotic monotone: "Galvatron, incoming."

He then fired the cannon that was mounted on his right shoulder and several energy projectiles hit one of the masked jumpers, effectively disengaging the cloak and damaging an engine. The ship went circling down and into the ocean with a loud splash. Sheppard managed as much as a curse when blind, random shots of the one referred to as Galvatron – whose helmet oddly resembled a crown – hit two more jumpers as their pilots scattered.

"Jumpers, fall back," the colonel said to his headset quickly. "Repeat, fall back immediately."

Those that managed to avoid being hit turned around and headed for the bay, some of them suddenly diving under the ocean's surface to enter through the underwater sections. But of course they did not fly alone. Several – impossible to count – oval, almost egg-like ships the size of jumpers followed them, opening fire. It seemed they knew exactly where to aim, but thankfully their cannons were not as efficient as the one mounted on Galvatron's arm.

Some of the ground troops spread around the balconies of Atlantis, as well as Elita One, attempted to provide some cover for the retreating pilots, but none were able to damage the pursuers, not even knock them off course. The Femmebot cursed loudly and switched her target to Galvatron and his masked lapdog she recognized as Soundwave.

Sheppard had to duck and run sideways as Alpha Trion tossed his winged opponent in his general direction. The monstrous Decepticon quickly got back to his feet and, accompanied by loud metallic sounds, transformed into what looked exactly like one of those oval ships.

Elita One growled to herself, not wanting to admit how hopeless she began to feel as the city around her was being destroyed, bit by bit, and all she and her comrades did made little difference.

"Who the _slag are_ you?!" she yelled at the crowned robot, firing at his chest and succeeding only in knocking him back for a brief moment before he got back to his feet.

"I am Galvatron!" the Decepticon bellowed, grinning widely. "The Lord High Protector!"

"Liar!!" Alpha Trion called back, fury visible on his old face. "There was only one, and he is gone!"

Galvatron laughed. "That is where you are _wrong_!"

* * *

"Who attacked them?" Keller asked with both eyebrows raised. He felt somewhat stupid saying that, though. Something told him he already knew the answer, and hated it.

Ironhide shrugged his massive shoulders, making them clash against his black, overpolished frame. "I've got a pretty good guess."

Sam Witwicky only moved his eyes from one face to another, noting expressions that ranged from concern to anxiety and even fear in the case of doctor Beckett. The man clearly did not deal well with stress. Or machines. Or perhaps there was something in the other galaxy the Scotsman cared for very much. ... Or perhaps all three at once.

O'Neill sighed through his nose. "Carter, can you confirm?"

She shook her head, not looking at the screen, obviously occupied with something else on one of the main computers of the SGC. "Negative, sir, the wormhole disengaged. Redialling in progress."

"Abort," the general ordered and Carter immediately pressed – no, slammed – the aborting keys. "They might need to use their gate, do not dial Atlantis until we hear from them or until I instruct otherwise. And recall the jumper."

"Yes, sir."

"Are we just going to sit back and do nothing?" Ironhide asked, shifting his optics from O'Neill to Keller and back again. "We Autobots don't leave our men behind!"

"Neither do we," Jack assured him, surprisingly calm as for such circumstances. Must have been the military training. Or just a mask. "But we can't use the gate bridge and we'll never get there in time on a ship."

"And I would not send anyone without knowing what's going on out there," Keller added firmly.

Bumblebee patted Ironhide's massive arm as the latter growled to himself. He was a soldier. His duty was to fight and protect, not sit back while his friends and allies were dying. He hated feeling so helpless, but he had to admit that there and then there was nothing any of them could do.

Save for pray.

* * *

In all that confusion none of the defenders paid much attention to one of the attacking Decepticons. Some only noticed that he stood out because of his helmet that was shaped a bit like rabbit ears. But for some reason no one felt like laughing. Some caught a glimpse of said robot dodging behind one of the city's bigger buildings, from behind he did not emerge.

No one realized that the mechanoid was looking for something. Everyone knew, but often forgot, that Atlantis in all its splendour was simply an enormous space ship. And the Decepticons realized that soon enough. This one, now safe from the gunfire and unnoticed by those pesky organic life forms, took a while to let his sensors adjust, pressed flat against an ornate wall. Finally, having the the confirmation he needed, he knelt and forcefully removed a carved panel from the outer floor. Covered in some Ancient writing the Decepticon could not read and could not care for less, it ended up in the ocean with a loud splash.

Underneath it, like pretty much everywhere in Atlantis, ran the network of power conduits and countless wires connected to the city's internal systems. The Decepticon put his right hand into the newly opened hole and let wires protrude from his wrist. They found the perfect spots where they managed to interface with Atlantis itself.

The Decepticon now had power over the humans.

* * *

The voice of Radek Zelenka seldom sounded this panicked. "_Colonel Sheppard, Rodney, we have a problem!_"

"You don't say!" McKay shouted into his headset, reloading his P-90 hastly.

"_They're draining power!_"

Both John and Rodney wanted to yell a '_what?!_' in reply, but instead they were forced to remove their headsets as a high frequency howl suddenly muted everything else and made their ears hurt. Badly.

"And they're jamming us," the physicist panted heavily in his usual state of panic and despair.

Sheppard ceased fire and looked at the other side of the pier where his strongest man, Ronon Dex, was happily firing his gun from behind a pile of debris that must have fallen from the building's damaged roof. Grabbing McKay's arm, the colonel pulled him behind the towering figures of the Autobots, against every loud protest, and towards the Satedan.

"What's up?" Dex asked casually, ducking in between each shot.

"Ronon, I need you to grab Zelenka and escort him to the power room," said Sheppard quickly in a low tone, hoping not to be heard. He no longer knew what to expect. "Tell him to pull the Zee Pee Em and _all_ backup generators."

Rodney patted him on the back, pointing at the door that let inside. "Good luck with that, it's sealed shut."

The colonel simply shrugged and swung his P-90 at the nearest stained glass window, breaking it and making them an entrance in a crude yet effective way.

"Go," he told Dex, who sprung forward and ran for a confused and clueless Zelenka. "McKay, you're with me."

"Where are we going?!" Rodney asked in the tone he reserved for such situations. He would soon shine and save the day yet again, he was certain, but now he was at the brink of death and so many things could go wrong that-

"The chair has its own power source, right?" Sheppard interrupted his inner blue streak.

"Yeah," the scientist confirmed, suddenly realizing how the day was going to be saved.

John stopped, his face stern. "Then I need you to help me get to the chair, and you could start by opening this door."

* * *

Radek Zelenka sighed with deep relief as he finally managed to override the door controls to the power room. Whoever it was that sealed it, they were clearly determined to lock the entire city down. The scientist quickly ran inside, followed by Ronon, alert and ready as always. The attackers were huge, true. But you never know.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," the Czech muttered, standing by one of the room's wall panels and interfacing his faithful tablet with it. "If we do this, we can't evacuate through the Stargate."

Dex positioned himself so that he could clearly see the door. "We can't anyway," he said. "If they can lock the city down, they can block the gate."

Zelenka looked at him, blinking. "You're right," he admitted, turning back to the tablet in his hand and hastily pressing things the Satedan could not see on the display screen. "I just need a moment..."

"Take your time," said Ronon, so emotionlessly it was clear that there was meant to be sarcasm in there. The scientist seemed to speed up after that.

It appeared that the Decepticon that strived to claim control over the city was treading on unknown ground. It was easy to shut all the doors and disable the internal sensors of Atlantis, but after Zelenka managed to run a quick diagnostic from the better secured power room, he realized that their enemies cannot take the city from them entire, not just yet. They still had the shield and the programs that switched it to a cloak, the transporters, hell, they could probably still use the sublight engines and the hyperdrive. But no doubt that someone was quickly learning about the city. So the sooner they are cut off, the better.

Zelenka disconnected the tablet, having disabled the protocols that engage backup naquadah generators, and moved to the main power unit in one jump. He was sweating, either from the adrenaline or the pressure; he was not sure. Either way, he – for some reason – drew breath and disconnected the zero-point module.

As soon as the crystal module darkened, so did the city. All lights of Atlantis died at the same time, all panels, laptops and other devices went off-line; with them went the more critical systems such as life support, but hopefully not for long.

But there was the keyword. Hopefully.

McKay paused in mid-step as the lights in the corridor went off, but Sheppard just kept running forward. Only one more door separated them from the famous chair that could be their advantage – and most definitely was their last card. The physicist realized he was left alone in his rare moment of approval for Zelenka and shot forward, trying to catch up with John. He found him by the final door, pushing hard to try and force them to open. Already weakened, but still on adrenaline, Rodney helped him and together they managed to open themselves a way into the room.

The chair stood in the very middle, quite inviting. To someone who has never seen it before it could look mysterious and pretty intimidating, with its delicate, glassy ornaments and a web-like pattern. Sheppard rushed in and sat on it, but nothing happened.

"Rodney-" he began.

"Ahead of you," the scientist interrupted, already crouched behind his friend and fiddling with the control crystals at the chair's base. Soon the room lit back up and the colonel grinned to himself.

"Now we're talking."

* * *

The Decepticons saw only lights.

Dozens of small light orbs suddenly shot out of nowhere, as it seemed. They could have been projectiles, but forming a tight group that moved together, in perfect unity, they resembled something as ethereal as a vengeful ghost that lit its own way, heralding only death.

Whatever they really were, the eerie lights zoomed over the heads of Soundwave and Galvatron, who ducked only because his officer made him, and hastily turned around. The defeating humans watched with rising hope as what they called drones disappeared behind one of the bigger buildings.

Then there was a scream.

* * *

The rabbit-eared robot that remained connected to the systems of Atlantis saw the deadly lights only a moment before they reached him. They brushed against his plating as he managed to dodge, leaving deep rows that revealed his inner wiring. A trail of oil oozed from one of the deeper wounds and dropped lazily onto the pristine floors of the city.

The Decepticon would not admit it, but he felt panic slowly build up in his Spark. He was forced to deal with something – a weapon? A being? - he has never even heard of before. He quickly raised his free arm and waved it around in chaos, as if dismissing an irritating bug. But this was much worse. The bug bit really hard.

The drones took a sudden turn in the air and shot through the Decepticon's arm that was interfaced with Atlantis, piercing both the plates and numerous wires and conduits. More oil and lubricants, as well as a dark pinkish substance that must have been coolant spilled onto the floor. The deadly lights turned yet again, severing both the robot's arm and connection to the city.

With growing fear and that irritating feeling of hopelessness, the Decepticon ceased his fruitless effort and covered his chest with his other arm instead. He must protect his Spark. He must not fail.

He did not manage to radio for help, however. The drones scattered and randomly assaulted his entire body, painfully piercing his remaining limbs, his rabbit audio sensors, brushing against every plate and wire of his body.

He screamed.

* * *

Galvatron tried to get up to his feet somewhat shakily, Soundwave crouched right next to him. Physically he seemed intact, in perfect, shape, but for some reason he suddenly acted weaker, as if someone drained some of his energy. The monstrous winged Decepticon landed by his side, transforming even before he reached the pier. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but held it back and helped his leader stand up without a word.

Once on his feet, Galvatron shoved his helped away, growling madly. His fiery red optics were fixed in the direction from which the scream came, from where he knew something was happening to one of his men.

"Cyclonus..." he muttered to himself, seemingly wincing in pain.

"Lord Galvatron, please..." the winged one began, his raspy voice not sounding too convincing when uttering a plea. "It would be foolish to remain-"

The crowned Decepticon growled at him again, aiming the huge cannon mounted on his right arm straight at the other's chest. "We do _not_ run!" he bellowed so loudly everyone in the neighbouring sections of Atlantis heard him, making some of the people pause in surprise. Elita One also stared from where she was supporting a collapsing wall while Alpha Trion, no less perplexed, moved wounded humans to safer areas.

"Advantage lost," Soundwave stated as emotionlessly as only he was able. "Data acquired. Suggestion: retreat."

Galvatron sent one more furious and somewhat panicked stare towards where Cyclonus laid mutilated and jumped up into the air. His two lieutenants and the squadron of oval ships followed closely, their leader almost literally steaming.

"This isn't over, fleshlings!" he yelled in a surprisingly high pitch, contrasting his usual deeper tone. "You will pay for what you did to him!!"

* * *

Sheppard sighed, the chair's high back straightening up as the device powered down. Rodney was standing by his side, and apparently has been all this time, simply unnoticed because the colonel focused on controlling the drones.

"And?" McKay asked impatiently and his usual expression betrayed he is anticipating more bad news.

John reached for his radio. "This is Sheppard, come in Zelenka."

"_I hear you, colonel_", Radek responded and it seemed he never sounded more relieved.

"What's going on?" Rodney repeated, obviously clueless.

"Reconnect the Zee Pee Em and the generators," John said, his own adrenaline giving way to the typical post-battle exhaustion. "Engage the cloak once you're back in the control room."

"_Understood, colonel_."

Sheppard heaved himself off the chair heavily only to confront McKay whose arms were crossed on his chest and foot was tapping impatiently.

"We won," John said simply. "We need to dial Earth and tell them we're safe. For now."


	4. Aftermath and Beginning

Atlantis has indeed won that battle, but the war has just begun. The city itself suffered considerable damage – the eastern sections became rather windy, as Sheppard put it, having had their ornate walls and even roofs torn in a few places. Those areas were ordered off-limits for everyone save for engineering and military teams that will attempt to rebuild – or at least fill in the holes – with the help of Elita One. At least the zero-point module has not been completely depleted. 47% was not that bad.

Everyone was, of course, well aware that the Decepticons would return, sooner or later, and that the cloak that has been shielding them from the Wraith for so long would not be enough. For that very reason Radek Zelenka was now spending most of his time with Alpha Trion, attempting to improve the city's power consumption. When the threat reappears, they will need to lower their energy signatures to the absolute, bare minimum or they shall be detected just like the jumpers that will soon need repairs. They will also need to readjust all sensors to the newly discovered signatures of the Decepticons.

There was one more thing that sustained the tension and certain fear within the walls of Atlantis – the mutilated Decepticon that tried to take control of the city. Following Alpha Trion's strong advice, he – whom they could not name, but to whom Sheppard began to refer to as Bugs – has been disassembled into the smallest pieces possible, all in order to prevent any possible actions and/or detections through energy signatures. The pieces have been placed in one of the larger labs, separated by strong screens, just in case, for McKay to study. He has hardly left said lab ever since, which was to be expected, actually.

But to the disappointment of some, the Spark endured. Now the isolation room was being illuminated by a soft, blue glow of the big, glittering orb. Inside flowed something that made people think of electricity currents, but its movements seemed controlled, almost sentient, indicating that it was indeed alive. The disembodied Spark twinkled, and stared.

* * *

A Decepticon flew across the room and hit a wall. Sliding down onto the hard, cold floor, he stared with slight terror at Galvatron who just tossed him with incredible ease. Apparently he was not exaggerating when he claimed to be the strongest. Neither of them said anything, though, much to the relief of the leader's new punch bag. He was just being glared at for a longer moment. Then, when he felt like he is going to get shot once and for all, the door to the throne chamber opened, revealing the one-handed, faceless figure of the Decepticon head scientist.

Shockwave bowed.

"What?!" Galvatron snapped at him, stopping himself from shooting at that blasted single optic.

"My liege," said the scientist humbly, what seemed to calm his superior down slightly. "I have analysed the data downloaded by Cyclonus."

"Aaaaand?" the leader cocked his head impatiently.

Shockwave did not look at him. "I believe I managed to locate someone who will infiltrate the city for us."

He received a grin in response. "Good, good, send someone out! And Soundwave?"

"He is on his way, my liege."

"Excellent!" Galvatron nearly clapped his hands in joy, experiencing one of his sudden, peculiar mood swings. "I want them both! The Prime _and_ the boy!"

* * *

The planet was deserted, figuratively and literally. Whoever has been left to lead a life on this globe by the so-called Ancients was long gone, likely due to some changes in the climate. Everything was now a vast, seemingly endless desert without as much as a single plant to grant shade nor a well for at least a drop of water. There was absolutely nothing – apart from the Stargate. It stood out among the sandy, sunbathed dunes with its purplish hue, ring shape, the constellations marked on the inner ring as well as the accompanying dialling device.

Located on the very edge of the Pegasus galaxy, this planet has been forgotten by everyone. And yet, it had a visitor.

Seven of the constellations lit up, one by one, on the gate itself as well as the dialling device, locking themselves into seven out of the nine chevrons placed around the ring. What looked like whirling water shot out of the now active Stargate like some vortex and immediately stabilized into a fluctuating, bright blue event horizon of a stable incoming wormhole.

The one to arrive through said wormhole was Soundwave, the blue and white robot whose aides spied on their foes and who has been present at the recent attack on Atlantis. He appeared to be alone this time, not followed by any other Decepticon nor any of his small companions.

His red glass visor shielded his optic sensors from the bright desert sun fairly well, allowing him to see what he was doing when he approached the mushroom-shaped device. As the Stargate shut itself down, he knelt and removed a panel from the base of the dial.

The data provided by Cyclonus' oh so heroic sacrifice let Soundwave right here. Data banks of Atlantis clearly stated that her Stargate is the only one able to connect to another galaxy. Any other such device in Pegasus lacked a control crystal capable of encoding the eighth chevron, the symbol denoting a galaxy. Obviously Soundwave did not posses said crystal, but he possessed enough data to bypass that minor inconvenience. It is only needed when the connection is being established – once the wormhole is stable, the chevron has been encoded and should remain so for the next thirty-eight minutes. So if he cannot reprogram the dialling device, he can become the crystal.

Technology based on crystals looked really fancy, but all in all it was not much different from the chrome chips and metal frames he knew so well from Cybertron. it needed no wires, but still there had to be at least one power conduit, and that was exactly where the wires from Soundwave's wrist interfaced, giving him access to the dialling device's data banks, protocols and other programming.

Forcing the gate to encode the much needed eighth chevron did not prove too easy, but neither did it prove too difficult. The robot cared not how long it takes – he worked as slowly as was needed, carefully, treading on ground alien to him and yet very interesting, peculiar. Once he rearranged what he needed to, one last obstacle remained.

Wormholes that connected galaxies required tremendous levels of energy to power them, and it was no secret that a single Stargate could not store enough. But Soundwave also knew that it has been built from what the humans called 'naquadah', the ultimate superconductor, what meant he can use any type of energy he has.

He used his own.

The wormhole locked to some distant planet all the way in the Milky Way, where Soundwave was pretty certain he will be able to recharge in one way or another. But he still had enough energy to last him a cycle around the globe's axis, perhaps two.

No Decepticon really knew Soundwave, let alone his true power and potential. He liked it that way.

What could he say? More than meets the eye...

* * *

Shockwave was pleased with himself.

He took a short while to prepare, but his plan worked just fine. The intercepted hive was now grounded, his own, specifically designed electromagnetic field constantly interfering with the ship's internal systems and jamming its communication at the same time. Of course, the Wraith could try and use telepathy to call for help, but given the civil war among their kind and tenuous nature of most inner alliances, it seemed highly illogical.

The Decepticon slowly approached the ship, finally revealing himself to the crew, even though their sensors hardly picked anything up. His colour seemed to match the hue of the hive's semi-organic hull, but his lack of a face and clearly mechanical structure was what worried the Wraith. To them, he was not even alive.

An abomination, just like the Replicators.

Pausing before the ship's bow, the robot opened a channel that bypassed his jamming field and said: "_Greetings to you, fleshlings._"

Silence answered him, but he waited patiently. He knew they can hear him. Finally a deep voice, somewhat softer than that of most Wraith, said: "_Who are you?_"

"_My name is Shockwave,_" replied the mechanoid. "_I represent the Decepticons, a faction of others like me. We approach you with an offer._"

"_Grounding my hive and disrupting communication does not invoke trust,_" said the Wraith commender in an increasingly irritated tone. If he felt fear, he did not let it show.

The Decepticon stared ahead with his single optic. "_But it is an offer you cannot refuse._"

There was a pause. "_Speak._"

"_I know who you are, commander,_" said Shockwave. "_I know you have ventured into Atlantis several times and are considered an ally of its current inhabitants. We need to use that trust._"

He could almost hear the frown. "_What do you mean?_"

"_Inside the city lies something... important,_" Shockwave explained slowly, carefully choosing words. There was no need to say everything. "_A living orb my liege desires above all. Acquire it for us and we shall reward you with technology that will give you a significant advantage over any enemy._"

"_And if we refuse?_" came the mandatory question.

"_I will eradicate you where you stand and proceed to destroy your allied hives._"

Again, there was silence. But Shockwave had time. And other means to convince the fleshlings should this fail.

Finally, after a longer while, the hive's commander replied: "_Very well._"

The robot accessed one of the ship's display screens on the bridge. Organic matter resisted his penetrating signals, but the mechanical parts gave him enough access to show the Wraith what they were looking for. A blue, gently glowing orb with streams resembling electricity currents jumping and dancing within it.

"_The orb is to be handled with the utmost care,_" said Shockwave sternly. "C_ontact me on the same subspace frequency on which we are now speaking once you have achieved your goal._"

Without another word, which would have been all but necessary, the robot transformed before the now working sensors of the hive. Its crew watched in amazement and disgust as pieces of the mechanoid moved, shifted and turned, quickly transforming him into some sort of flying vehicle, unlike anything they have seen before, Wraith or Lantian. A tail kept its balance while a huge, old-fashioned propeller mounted on the roof allowed it to fly.

Shockwave left the Wraith to themselves, and when he was finally out of sensor range, Todd cursed loudly.

* * *

This planet was much better. Wild green forests, untamed rivers and vast mountains covered its surface and, as Soundwave soon found out, it was also rich in resources. It took him and his four aides a short while to discover where the mineral deposits were located, but when they found a working mine, all it took was some stealth and a few cracked skulls. This naquadah the humans seemed to value so much proved to be an efficient source of energy and fairly easy to process into energon. Having recharged himself and the smaller robots, he was now ready to proceed with the plan.

A subspace distress beacon was all it took. He knew quite a few frequencies used by the humans and thanks to the newly acquired data, he also knew a bit about their allies. His only problem right now was his size – if the ship proves too small, he might have to find other means of transport. But he will worry about that when the time comes.

It did not matter how long he waited. Someone finally hailed him on one of the frequencies he used. They identified themselves as the Tok'ra, of whom he knew little. But again it did not matter. It was not them he needed.

He managed to convince them to land the ship – a lesser cargo vessel – and help with moving wounded out from a deep cave which their transportation rings could not penetrate. Voice modulation was a wonderful tool. Hidden from their sight, he observed two men leave the ship through a broad side door and go underground, just as planned. Two of his aides – the humanoid Rumble and the feline Ravage – went after them. The fleshlings died a swift death.

After that the robots ran back out and disposed of the pilot who remained on board the ship. As Rumble dragged the lifeless body outside, Soundwave attempted to enter. The door was too short for him, forcing him to bend over significantly, but was broad enough for him to pass. He rested in the cargo hold, the largest compartment of the vessel. Ravage walked over and laid down next to him, her mechanical muzzle on his knees, as Rumble interfaced with the control panel and let them take off. Once they reached low orbit, he engaged the hyperdrive.

Destination: Earth.

* * *

O'Neill decided he should visit Stargate Command and look into the matter from there. Decepticon activity was, after all, a threat to homeworld security. Beckett insisted on going with him, but the Autobots were far too big to fit inside the complex built under Cheyenne Mountain. They were asked to remain in Area 51 as their knowledge and, as O'Neill put it, unique skills might be needed again. And three stayed there with Lennox, but Bumblebee left to take Sam Witwicky home. The boy protested, at first, but soon gave in. He did want to go to college. He wanted to be a normal boy.

As normal as you can be with a transforming car, that is.

"Welcome back, sir," Walter said, standing at attention the moment O'Neill entered the main control room.

"Good to be back," the general smiled. "At ease, Walter."

He then approached the window that overlooked the gate room. The last of Earth's two Stargates stood there proudly, carrying memories of the countless voyages he himself went on. The wormholes have long ceased to seem intimidating and alien, even though he did not really understand how they worked – but has he not gotten to know them literally inside out?

Actually, he missed those missions.

"What's their status?" he asked.

"Doctor Zelenka reports that he finished calibrating the sensors, so that they'll be warned about the next attack, and the cloak."

"That was quick," the general commented, not taking his eyes off the gate.

Walter nodded behind his back. "The Autobots say they will question the prisoner and contact us as soon as they know something."

That was when O'Neill turned to him with both eyebrows raised. "How do you question a glowing ball, Walter?"

"I don't know, sir. But there is one more thing."

Jack sighed. "Of course there is."

"A Tok'ra cargo ship has been spotted landing in Nevada. No response to my hails."

"Did you try contacting the Tok'ra?"

"Yes, sir. They say they don't know anything about it."

The general pointed a finger at Walter. "Send a UAV and alert all units in that area. I want to know what's going on there. And somebody better help me with a cover story."

"Sir?"

"Do it, Walter. I can't prove it, but I got a strong feeling that this ship and the attack on Atlantis are somehow related."

* * *

"This thing freaks me out."

A lot of things freaked McKay out, but this appeared to be the worst to date. He could swear the Spark is staring back at him and everyone would back him up on this one, and they knew it has no good intentions. Felt like they held a loudly ticking time bomb. Only Sheppard acted his normal self, sometimes even talking to the orb and calling it Bugs – obviously because of the bunny ears – but some said that he, too, is afraid. Just that he was a soldier.

He led the military team that escorted the scientists as they moved the Spark outside to the northern pier of the city. It was being handled with the utmost care, like a rotten egg, almost; stripped down to his very essence, this Decepticon was still a prisoner and, apparently, of use to them. The two Autobots seemed to have some questions to ask him.

They awaited on the pier, their metal faces completely blank. Preparations have been completed prior to the Spark's arrival, so all that was left was to connect it to one of Atlantis' sophisticated voice synthesisers. Much like when Eli- when the Replicators invaded the systems. Alpha Trion assured that the Decepticon will be able to speak; after all, that was more or less how their race communicated.

McKay's team placed a couple of wires so that they touched the orb. But nothing happened.

Sheppard waved a hand. "Hey, Bugs, buddy, say something."

"How_ dare _you?!" answered a slightly synthetic bass. "My name is Cyclonus, fleshling, and you best remember it!"

Elita One coughed diplomatically. "Very well, Cyclonus. We have a few questions."

"I've got nothing to say to you, Autobot."

She shook her head, but fortunately for them, the Decepticon tendencies kicked in. "By keeping me alive you have signed your own death warrants," said the Spark. "Lord Galvatron knows I have not perished."

"Who is he?" asked Elita One and there was clear impatience in her tone. Sheppard knew next to nothing about their conflicts – not long ago he even wondered if they should side with anyone, but the attack was reply enough – yet it was obvious that this Galvatron is something of a key figure. He just did not realize why. Again, more than meets the eye. It seemed to describe these robots, all of them, just perfectly.

"He is the peak and crowning of everything the Decepticons stand for," said Cyclonus. "And he will come for me."

"Let him, then," the Femme taunted, but Alpha Trion cut in before there was a reply.

"He called himself Lord High Protector," he said, his tone both somewhat fearful and... hateful? "Why? What does he have to do with Megatron?"

Cyclonus laughed at this, maniacally so. "Megatron is dead! All hail Galvatron!"

Sheppard only thought that there was a fine example of insanity if he has ever seen one. He and the other humans watched the two Autobots exchange glances; Elita One shook her head again. They must have realized they will get nothing out of him this way. Yet, the old robot tried again:

"What is the new order?"

"You cannot make me talk, Autobots," said Cyclonus. "Torture me all you want. My pain and my life means nothing."

And a fanatic, too, thought Sheppard.

"You said that Galvatron knows," Trion sighed heavily. This was leading nowhere. "How?"

"Answer yourself, ancient one."

He knew. Since Cyclonus was now nothing more than a Spark, there could have been only one answer, which could have seemed impossible, yet was also very fitting, for some reason. "Where did you come from?" Elita One inquired. "If you're Decepticons, how come no one has ever heard of you? You're not in any data banks."

"Where did we come from?" Cyclonus repeated her question mockingly. "Your worst nightmares!" With this he laughed, making the two Autobots only sigh. But he suddenly composed himself, all serious again. "You cannot stop the new order. Even if we fall, it is already too late."

"It never is," the Femme replied sharply and nodded at McKay. "Disconnect him and take him away. We must speak to Earth."

"You do that," said Sheppard, shutting off his radio. "I gotta go. Just got word that there's a dart on the mainland. It's Todd."

* * *

It was a cargo ship, all right. And a Goa'uld one at that. One could hardly confuse the smooth triangular shape and the funny white lines all over the grey hull. Jack O'Neill stared at it, trying to sort all the memories it brought. But there was sadly little time to reminiscence on the past trips he had in these – the area was suddenly very loud, for one. The Air Force managed to secure the immediate perimeter, and as far as they were aware, there were no eye witnesses to the landing itself. Perhaps someone has seen the ship descend, but no one would probably believe such a story anyway.

Choppers and military cars surrounded the vessel, but there was no one aboard. The cargo consisted of but a few crates filled with rations, which were, by the way, already overdue. A clear indication that the ship's destination was not Earth...

O'Neill sighed. Samantha Carter was now spending some quality time with the controls and a laptop, attempting to access the ship's log and look for some data on what has transpired. It took a while, especially in the hot sun of Nevada's desert.

Someone poked him carefully. It was one of the lower-ranked scientists Carter took with her for assistance.

"General, I think you should know this," the man said, carefully picking words. Bad news incoming.

"What is it?"

"We've picked up some residual radiation. It's strongest inside the ship and heads off north-west, where it seems to fade much faster."

Jack sighed inwardly. "Is it dangerous?"

"No, sir. But I contacted Area 51 about this. It's the same type of radiation given off by the Autobots."

"Hold that thought," O'Neill looked at him with his usual, sceptical expression. "Are you telling me an Autobot hijacked a Tok'ra cargo ship and flew here?"

Daniel Jackson shrugged behind his friend, but the motion remained unseen. "Perhaps it wasn't an Autobot."

Jack paused for a brief moment. "I need to call the Pentagon."

* * *

Optimus Prime was sitting with his back against one of the walls of the hangar that he has been occupying most of his time recently. Ironhide and Ratchet, those that were still left with him in Area 51 were no less bored than he was, amusing themselves mostly with idle chatter in the Cybertronian tongue. Their leader was the only one around who could understand, yet he paid little, if any, attention to what they were saying. He just sat there, staring at the blank screens of the now idle communications centre. Word has already reached them that the battle was over and that both Autobots currently in Atlantis were essentially intact.

But that helped little. With the other end of the communications centre so badly damaged they were left only with audio. Without a visual it was impossible to say what the situation was exactly all the way in the Pegasus galaxy. He knew that single strike was only the beginning of something much worse and he worried, both for his fellow Autobots and the humans that lived in Atlantis. He always worried. What if something has happened since they last spoke?

He stared at the equipment almost accusingly. One call was all he asked for. Come on... just one single call...

"Prime..." said Ironhide's deep voice from somewhere in the room. Optimus did not react, even though he was well aware he is being spoken to. The specialist shook his head, sighing, and tried again: "Prime, troubling yourself really isn't going to help anyone."

"I know, Ironhide," Prime sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. That was more of a reply than the other hoped for. "You know I can't help-"

The communications equipment interrupted him as a male voice sounded trough it: "_This is Stargate Command, come in, Area 51."_

"This is Optimus Prime," the mechanoid said, almost leaping forward. Finally, some update!

"_We are receiving a transmission from Atlantis, they wish to speak to you. I am patching them through_."

Silence followed those words, even though the huge, steel hall echoed them for a long while thereafter. Some cracking and scratching, characteristic for a damaged or broken microphone, tore through it and soon started forming something akin to actual words.

"_This is Alpha Trion_," they managed to make out. "_Do you read me?_"

"We do," Optimus said, an expression of utter relief crossing his metallic features. Ironhide and Ratchet moved closer in hopes of hearing better, but it soon appeared that the distance did not really matter. "What's your status?"

"_We are safe for the time being,_" replied the elder, yet the static made it nearly impossible to make out any emotion. The words themselves were barely understandable. "_The city's able to detect the Decepticons now. But I have some worse news as well..._"

The Prime sighed. Of course he does, it should have been expected.

"_We tried interrogating the prisoner,_" Alpha continued, and a sigh was barely audible through all the interference. "_We didn't get much... It is highly possible this Decepticon is bonded with Galvatron, don't ask, so we're going to further isolate the Spark. But we need to learn more about this Galvatron as soon as possible."_

Optimus was not sure he should, but still, he asked: "Have you found out anything about him so far?"

"_Nothing specific,"_ came the reply "_but I have reasons to believe he has more to do with Megatron than it seems._"

* * *

Meanwhile, in the evil lair...

The improvised base on the red planet known as Mars has not been easy to locate for both the Autobots and their flesh allies, thanks to energy consumption almost below the bare minimum and the fact that no one really expected the Decepticons to station themselves so close and yet so well out of reach. This suited them just fine as they were left in peace for the time being.

Until the new arrival. An unidentified vessel, too small for the average Cybertronian, shaped far differently to what they used and constructed of completely different materials approached the planet's surface. Upon descent, barely entering the base's sensor range, a transmission was forwarded and identified the ship's crew as Soundwave and his aides. After the others disembarked upon the barren red land, accompanied by nothing but dust, the small Rumble took the ship towards Earth.

Soundwave bore news. And Starscream was not amused.

He paced to and fro in the command centre, and the communications officer was far from surprised that the Air Commander installed himself a throne in there. His steps were heavy, betraying fury that showed also in the brief flickers of his optics, and echoed against the metal walls like thunder. The other just stood there and observed, as calmly and blankly as ever.

"This is ridiculous," the Seeker said, not even slowing down in his steps. His voice sounded slightly higher than normally, a change in tone so slight only Soundwave could notice it. "You can't be serious!"

"Negative," said the other, his robotic monotonic voice contrasting that of his superior.

That was when Starscream finally stopped and looked straight at that blasted glass visor. Sometimes he really wished he could look past that mask, past the damn emotionless cover and see who this mechanoid really was. "Galvatron, eh?" he asked, stretching the name as if intending to break it.

"Affirmative," Soundwave confirmed, motionless even as his commander's face scanned him closely. If he had an Autobot handy, he would have probably thrown him at a wall a couple of times already.

The Seeker clenched his hands into fists, still processing the news this messenger brought. Somewhere behind him Ravage growled quietly, sensing his growing fury as well as her creator's amusement at the situation. The Air Commander, while an able fighter and skilled leader, was never popular among his fellow Decepticons, for multiple reasons. If asked, most would probably say 'ego' and 'treachery' first.

"Fine," he finally said, turning around and walking over to his huge, ornate throne. "Fine. Thundercracker," he nodded at the tall blueish robot that stood in the far corner of the room. The other Seeker straightened up when addressed, almost as if he was going to salute. "You're in charge of tracking Prime, use Ratbat if you need."

Thundercracker bowed slightly. "Yes, Lord Starscream."

Starscream then surveyed all his surroundings slowly. The crude yet thus far satisfactory temporary base has been constructed under his rule, on his command. His beachhead in this solar system, _his _exploration.

And the troops... The amazingly loyal yet irritably mysterious Soundwave and his handy little comrades. During the millions of years of the war there was no operation in which he failed, no mission from which he returned defeated. Then there was Thundercracker, the physically strongest of the Seekers and quite the thinker, yet with somewhat questionable devotion. There were times, especially soon after they rebelled against the Prime, that Starscream doubted if he obeys orders. But so far he did, and that was one of the few reasons he was allowed to live.

There were others, like Barricade – strong and cruel, Skywarp – stupid yet obedient, Shockwave – the cold ingenious scientist, the Triple Changers, the Contructicons... For well over ten thousand Cybertronian years they were his to command, even if only because they believed he really wishes for Megatron to return.

Ten thousand years. Throughout the war he waited for his chance, the perfect opportunity, which he finally found when the All Spark vanished among the stars. He did not remain so patient to have the power stripped from him by someone never heard of before.

By this... Galvatron.

Oh, apparently he does not know Starscream. They can play his favourite game.

Starscream sat on the throne, closely observed by Soundwave's hidden optics. "Hail Galvatron!" he called, the words echoing off the steel walls of the otherwise quiet centre. But no one called back.

"Orders?" Soundwave asked shortly.

"Have Rumble observe the Autobots," the Air Commander said after a moment of thought. "But do not engage."

The communications officer bowed his head slightly in silent acknowledgement. His superior then turned to yet another Decepticon, one that already had an Earth disguise in white and black because he was one of the survivor's of last year's battle for the All Spark.

"Barricade," he said and the soldier straightened up in attention. "You have stalked the human boy before, so I shall leave it up to you to capture him for our great leader."

The words came out flat and emotionless, yet the absolutely oozed poison and certain hatred for the one that dared usurp the title from Starscream. Sensing the tension, and knowing better than to make the fire burn hotter, Barricade saluted and immediately headed off.

"Wait," came a firm request – order? - from behind him in that unique, robotic monotone.

He paused. "What is it?"

"You survived on Earth," Soundwave stated.

"Yeah, and?"

"Frenzy?"

Barricade did not respond at once. He never cared much for the little crazy glitch, and truth be told, hardly anyone outside Soundwave's little circle did. He did not pay much attention to Frenzy's actions, not did he bother to check after they lost contact. He merely shrugged and went on his way to carry out his orders.

The other watched him go, the mask and visor hiding the grief and worry he could barely contain.

* * *

It was supposed to be a beautiful day.

But Sam Witwicky has learned not to assume these things on the day his car transformed before his eyes; since then he knows even the most ridiculous things can prove real. That was exactly the case on this Saturday, when he and his parents were to head off on a ride in a brand new yellow Camaro.

And although the Witwickys were aware of the car being different, to say the least, they still could not believe it happened to their son and not somebody else. Sam promised himself he will have Bumblebee transform for them once they are out of Tranquillity.

But, as could have been expected, not everything went according to plan.

Judy was happily packing blankets and baskets full of food and other goodies into the car's trunk, her husband already sitting behind the wheel, but their son stood and stared at the road.

"Sam?" the woman asked suddenly. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing," he lied. Round a nearby corner he saw the black hood and lights, looking like a sinister eyes, of what must have been a police car, and one he has seen before. "Dad?"

Ronald peeked through the Camaro's window. "Yeah?"

"Are there any watch patrols in the neighbourhood right now?" Sam asked carefully, his gaze fixed at the car that seemed to have moved forward an inch.

"None that I know of," his father replied. "Get in the car, we're going."

With a quick nod, the boy almost an over to the yellow vehicle and sat in front, much to the disappointment of Judy, who had to squeeze in the back.

"Mom, dad," he began, knowing this may get ugly for reasons different than the mystery police. "You're going to trust me."

The engine fired up, making Ronald jump back in his seat.

"Me and my car," Sam corrected himself as the Camaro drove off their yard and sped down the street.

In the side mirror the boy sat the police car follow them quite closely, causing a small deja vu. What he could not see, however, was the sinister, purple face painted on the vehicle's side doors and the curved motto written in white.

_To punish and enslave._


	5. The All Spark

_I know it took me forever to write this, and for that I truly apologize, but artist blocks are a real bitch._

_Responding to a comment - I use a mixture of the movieverse and Generation 1, and a bit of my own invention. Hell. Every Transformer fan does that. And just because Alpha Trion built a pair of mechs doesn't mean he cannot be a fighter._

_This story has been written past Transformers 2007 and does not consider "Reign of Starscream" nor any other official sequels._

_This story has been written past "The Queen" and does not consider any Stargate: Atlantis episode past that one.  
_

* * *

Revving engines were the only indications that something moved in the Witwicky's yard, but those closer could see the yellow, striped Camaro leave the driveway and head off away from a police car that pursued closely. They were aiming for the highways, but what observers could not see was the real driver.

Actually, they could, only they were not aware. Ronald Witwicky sat back in the chair, hiding his anxiety as best as he could in the circumstance, which was well described as 'hardly', he let the wheel turn in his grip and the pedals move under his feet. It felt awkward, damn awkward, but apparently that was how it had to be if he was to find out what was actually going on. He just prayed it was not the crazy stuff he heard in rumours about Mission City. Although... when he looked at the strange symbol on the steering wheel...

The car took a sudden turn right and Ronald snapped back into reality to stop himself from being pushed flat against the door. They were already on the highway and he watched in dawning horror as the speed gauge neared its maximum, the view outside zooming past in a blur. The chase has just begun...

"We should pull over!" Judy said a bit louder than she wanted as their pursuer turned on the siren. They could see the vehicles on their sides move away to make way for the police. Apparently they all thought them criminals now.

"It's a bit complicated..." Sam began, staring into the side mirror. He had a good view on the police car's hood and... "Mom, dad," he stated somewhat more firmly, instantly getting their full attention. "That guy behind us has no ID number."

Judy opened her mouth to say something, but instead, just like Ron, she looked into the side mirror. They both stared in disbelief for a moment, wondering how could they have missed something so obvious. The car began zig-zagging between lanes, engine revving at full speed... which seemed to be a bit more than a normal Camaro was capable of, double pump or not.

"So..." Ronald said slowly "you're saying that he guy behind us..."

"Is an alien," said a voice out of nowhere, making the parents lean back in their seats. "Before you say anything," the voice went on, making Sam smirk slightly to himself "I'm your car, and I don't have time to explain."

The three humans titled sideways as the vehicle turned abruptly and left the highway, headed for smaller roads and out into open fields. The police car followed closely, squeezing all it could muster to catch up on them, and slowly decreasing the distance that separated them.

"It's no use," the Camaro hissed and only Sam was conscious enough to understand what it meant. "When I stop, you people get out at _once_."

Responding to the increasingly loud siren, the yellow vehicle took a very sharp turn at the nearest opportunity and when there was no barrier to block it anymore, it left the roads altogether. The passangers clung to their seats as the ride got more and more bumpy and the cop closed in on them.

The car halted abruptly in the middle of nowhere and opened the door.

"Out!" Sam cried out, just as a reminder, as his parents were already staggering out. The moment they set feet on the ground, they beheld what they knew to be true but what they still could not believe.

At least until the cheerfully yellow Camaro transformed before their eyes. Parts shifted, turned and moved to form arms, legs, something that resembled wings, reveal a head... A huge, humanoid and still very yellow figure rose and blocked their view on the roads, so the Witwickys could only assume it – he – was covering them from the police.

Who were most certainly _not_ police.

Sam grabbed his parents by the arms and pulled them away as a familiar black robot with an inhuman face launched itself at the yellow one; they fell right where the humans were just standing, but Bumblebee immediately threw his opponents aside and got back on his feet.

"Sam, what's going on...?!" Judy panicked, her eyes fixed on the battling mechanoids.

"He's saving us," the boy said a bit absent-mindedly. That was one deja vu right there. He blinked, snapping back to reality. "That cop chased me once before."

"What-"

"Run!!" Bumblebee cried.

"Where to?!" Ronald called back.

The answer came on its own as two cars drove towards them. Two sport Lamborghinis, identical models, but one was deeply red and one bright yellow. The latter headed directly to the combatting duo, hitting the cop's legs and making him stumble for Bumblebee to fire at his neck. The other Lamborghini stopped right in front of the humans. It was not entirely a surprise for Sam – he expected his friend Camaro to call for help or organize them a way out or fet them out himself or _something_. He was the first to enter when the vehicle's doors opened.

"Just get in," a voice, obviously the car's, said as the boy's parents hesitated. "I'll get you to headquarters."

"What about Bumblebee?" asked Sam.

"Oh, don't worry," the Lamborghini said as it rode off and back onto the highway. "Bro's helping him."

"Bro?"

"Sunstreaker," they could actually hear a grin. "The other yellow. I'm Sideswipe, we're twins."

Ronald did not hide his growing confusion. "But you're robots..."

"Long story," Sideswipe replied, speeding faster and faster away. Sam managed to avert his eyes from the rear mirror where he saw the other two mechanoids and their enemy become smaller and finally disappear.

"When did you arrive on Earth?" he asked to get his mind off his worry for the friend he just left.

"A few of your days ago," Sideswipe said. His tone was casual and betrayed certain confidence at the same time. "Prime called for reinforcements, so we got here with a few others."

Sam felt like asking about where they were going, what the Decepticons wanted from him, who were the few others, what the hell was going on, but he decided to let it go for now. Time for more questions would come later, he mused, and right not he stared at Sideswipe's radio.

The Autobot began slowing down when he was certain they are in no immediate danger. Gradually he left the highways, and then roads in general once more, heading out into the open plains. He paid no attention to Ronald and Judy talking among themselves, and neither did their son.

Finally, after a long while, the radio sounded.

"_This is Bumblebee_."

Sam nearly jumped in his seat. "Are you alright?!"

"_Battered, but in one piece_," the mechanoid said, making a smile audible in his words. "_We've got Barricade offline and on his way to our holding cell."_

"How's Sunny?" Sideswipe asked with a clear grin.

"_Grumpy as usual._"

There was a soft chuckle from the Lamborghini. "See you in headquarters."

After a rather sharp turn out in the middle of nowhere, he added: "Were almost there."

* * *

Sheppard knew exactly where to head and made sure to park the Jumper a safe distance away. And to have a squad in another cloaked ship on standby in case this proved to be an ambush. What, in all fairness, was rather likely. It would not be the first time the Wraith turned to them for help... but perhaps, just perhaps, this time would be the last time.

Sheppard walked through the forest carefully, trying to keep a steady pace, his P-90 in one hand and a lifesigns detector in the other. The dots representing his backup team began disappearing as he moved towards the randez-vous site, but quickly returned as the squad followed him in their Jumper. Soon, one more dot appeared before them. Sheppard caught a glimpse of the Wraith sitting on a mossy log, one leg swung over the other. He indeed seemed to be alone.

Stuffing the detector into a pocked of his jacket, the colonel walked forward.

Todd allowed himself a smile. "John Sheppard."

"Hi," he replied, the weapon aimed directly at the other's head. The Wraith stood up, opening his arms to show he was unarmed, at least not visibly. He even wore a black glove on his feeding hand. A lot of things could be said about his race, but damn, they had style.

"There is no need for weapons," Todd said and John slowly lowered hi gun, his eyes fixed on the other. "I am surprised that you have come."

"Trust me, I didn't miss you," Sheppard said rather flatly, but the words came out with a hint of amusement he was hoping to hide.

Todd chuckled, but his expression quickly became serious once more. "I need to ask you for your help."

"You mean again?" the colonel frowned, nearly prompting another chuckle, but the Wraith managed to stop himself.

"Unfortunately, yes," he said in that characteristic, deep voice of his. He hung his head a bit and the messy white hair fell forward, covering the starburst tattoo. "Another of my hives has been destroyed. The survivors scattered, but I have been followed and separated from my crew. I had to take my dart through one of your Stargates."

Sheppard was listening intently, pondering. So far the story sounded believable, and what he would not admit to Todd was that he _wanted_ to believe him. Silence fell, unbroken even by wildlife that seemed to have fled from the area.

"Who did it?" he finally asked.

Todd shrugged slightly. "We have never encountered anyone like them before," he said carefully, his tone betraying a shade of disgust. "Seemingly sentient machines, crude yet ingenious."

John narrowed his eyes. That sounded awfully familiar... "Not Lantian," he said. It was not a question – more like the answer to a question he wanted to ask but found it unnecessary.

The Wraith shook his head. "I have never encountered anything like them before," he repeated.

Sheppard sighed, and waved for him to follow. "Come on," he said as he began retracing his steps back to the jumper. Todd walked closely behind, unsure what to expect. The colonel could be leading him into some sort of a trap. But then again, if he wanted to kill him, he would have done that years ago. They had many reasons to eliminate each other, and yet they did not.

The jumper was barely visible from a distance, its colour matching the green forest around it. But the closer the two of them came, the clearer its silhouette became.

Sheppard activated his radio as he stepped into the ship. "Jumper Two, return to Atlantis," he said.

Todd frowned slightly as the other vehicle appeared above them out of nowhere. "You brought reinforcements," he stated in a conversational tone.

"You didn't expect it?" John asked as he took the pilot's seat and powered the jumper up.

The Wraith chuckled, sitting next to him. "Of course I did. That is what makes you John Sheppard."

* * *

Ultra Magnus was glad to be off that backwater outpost. Of course he was to obey orders, and if he had to stay there for millennia, he would. But thank Primus that the Decepticons were reported to have abandoned the planet; even if they were near, that particular globe was of no interest to them anymore since the power source has been taken away.

That meant he and his troops were not back in Iacon and could occupy themselves with more pressing matters. Some very disturbing news has been reaching Autobase ever since a team left for Atlantis. The mystery Decepticon raiders who assaulted the city. Then there were rumours of something moving through the neighbouring quadrant. It was just a _something_; no one seemed to have seen whatever it really was, so all they had were readings of residual radiation and the energy signature.

And those readings were most disturbing.

Ultra Magnus stopped dead as something zoomed past him so fast he could not even catch an outline. He turned around to see the familiar bright blue car halt abruptly, forcing itself to turn on one hind wheel. During that turn the car began transforming into a rather short robot, his parts shifting and moving much faster than the optic could follow.

Blurr stopped before his commander and saluted. "UltraMagnusUltraMagnusintelspieshavereturnedwithnewssowegottagoyougottagolistentothenews..."

"Okay, Okay!" Magnus tried to interrupt him, waving a hand dismissively to further emphasise that point. "Take me to the spies, I want to hear what they know."

Blurr headed off towards one of the smaller outer buildings of Autobase, having to stop evey several steps for his superior to catch up. Everyone who knew the courier accepted his ridiculous speed, both in actions and in words. No one understood where it came from, not even the greatest Autobot minds that studied him thoroughly. People gradually got used to him and his pacifistic, friendly nature... but his constant superspeed yapping still irritated them. And there was virtually no way to shut him up.

Like now.

"Idon'tknowaboutyouUltraMagnusbutI'mexpectingbadnewsurgentnewsisalwaysbadnewswhatdoyouthinkUltraMagnuswhatdoyouthink?"

"I don't think," the commander responded, his tone mercifully not betraying any annoyance. "Words are distracting me, you know."

Blurr paused, but for no longer than a fraction of a second. "OfcourseUltraMagnusofcourseIcanshutupIwillshutupifonlyyoutellmethenI'llshutup..."

"Blurr!"

The courier's jaw closed shut, but Magnus knew better than to expect more than a few minutes of silence. He just kept following the blue bot into one of the few smaller buildings which most of the time served as auxiliary storage and monitor supervision facility. In a smaller storage area, normally locked down by an access code, sat a dark orange bot with hints of blue here and there on his plating. His usually present battlemask was now hidden, revealing firm features and a professionally blank expression.

He stood from the crate he was sitting on and saluted the moment Ultra Magnus entered. "Commander."

"At ease," he smiled, dismissing Blurr with a wave of a hand. Reluctantly, the courier left, carefully closing the door behind himself. Glad to see you and your team back safe, Punch."

"Thank you, sir," Punch replied, but did not smile back. It appeared Blurr was right to expect bad news, especially when the agent added: "I do not bring good information, sir."

Magnus nodded and sat on one of the larger metal crates spread around the room, one that could hold his weight. Punch sat back on the one he has been occupying before.

"Speak," the commander ordered in a soft, very friendly tone.

The agent sighed quietly. "The Decepticons are in upheaval. They all speak of this Galvatron, and obviously not all of them are happy with him assuming command."

"That sounds like good news for us," Magnus mused, raising his optic ridges slightly.

"No, sir," Punch shook his head. "It's not, because the Decepticons don't know where he came from. He just... appeared."

"Means we need to keep invesitgating," the commander sighed heavily, talking to himself more than the other.

"Sir... there is more."

He looked at the spy rather blankly, expecting even worse news and indicating nothing can surprise him anymore. He nodded, encouraging Punch to say it.

"Shockwave is very interested in something..." he began slowly, carefully choosing words. "He went to the Pegasus galaxy, but I couldn't find out why. And he left his agents in the Milky Way. He's apparently looking for something."

Ultra Magnus nodded once more, his expression betraying he is hardly impressed. "Whatever he wants, we don't want him to get it," he stated. "Any idea what that is?"

Punch shook his head slightly. "Very little," he replied. "Shockwave keeps his affairs hidden, and hidden well. The only thing I know is that it has something to do with the All Spark."

* * *

It was amazing what a handful of robots and government engineers can put together in just under a year. The base the Autobots dubbed Iacon Beta – apparently after some place on their homeworld – was situated underground somewhere in the Nevada desert, with its entrances hidden under the sand. The compound was nowhere near complete yet, the only functioning sections being the most crucial ones.

So there was the command center, filled with constantly online security computers that monitored both the outside and inside of Iacon Beta, data processing workstations, holoprojectors, a communications console and the mainframe console. From here one could access any systems on the base, including alarms, lockdown protocols and automated defenses – many of which were still not operational.

There was the medical bay with the most crucial equipment set around a few berths. There were diagnostic devices, electromagnetic pulse and field generators, external Spark stabilizers, welders, recharge equipment and many more. Ratchet made sure he has everything he needs in working conditions to avoid tragedies like the one that took Jazz from them.

There were quarters, but due to the lack of space so far only the Prime had a place of his own. The others shared quarters with a few separate berths, and two workstations instead of one. Each berth was equipped with a small recharging station on the wall by it, and an auxiliary radio. So far the operational quarters sufficed for those Autobots stationed on Earth, but more were being prepared in case more arrived.

The last two ready sections were storage, partially filled with Energon cubes and backup weaponry, and a brig. The forcefields used to lock cells, adjusted so that contact with Cybertronian circuitry sent charges able to temporarily offline a mech – were exactly the same as the one containing and protecting the compounds main generator.

Which was located some distance below Iacon Beta, whilst auxiliary generators were on two of its sides. So far the power requirements were moderate, although steadily increasing and supplies from Cybertron were the only way of keeping the place running. At least until the US government finds a way to deliver more power without alerting the public.

Corridors were still lined with steel and metal beams, ladders and all sorts of materials as humans – many of them ex-Sector Seven scientists and engineers – kept working on putting together extra living quarters, a research lab, a workshop, and in the future perhaps some leisure facilities such as a mess hall and a training holodeck.

Iacon Beta was loud, crowded and barely ready. Yet it still impressed the Witwickys.

Sideswipe led them towards the central sections, and the family was not sure whether they should stare at their surroundings or their saviour. He was very red, with a face that must have been regarded handsome by Cybertronian standards. His constant, slightly devilish smile and the casual stride betrayed an easy-going attitude and a personality of a trickster.

What instantly got Judy Witwicky concerned.

Her family had to run several feet each time the Lamborghini forgot to wait for them, not used to dealing with lifeforms so small. He could hear the father muttering to himself, but did not make out the words and did not really care.

Finally, after crossing what seemed like miles for the humans, they stopped by the open door of what must have been the command center. Several workers were tinketing inside a wall panel, readjusting the wires and adding new ones, as a mech watched and assisted when the people could not handle it.

He was tall and somewhat thin, his wiring seemingly sunken under the dark green, worn plating. His face was weary and its plates slightly uneven, blue optics glowing dimmer than those of other Autobots. Even his voice was a bit raspy.

"Hey, Kup," said Sideswipe. "Busy, I see."

"Hey, lad," the green mechanoid sighed. "The door mechanism and security locks aren't working properly," he turned to the newcomer humans and frowned slightly, the metal ridges of his optics tilting a bit. "You must be the Witwickys."

"Yes," Ronald said before the boy managed to open his mouth. "I'm Ron, this is my wife Judy and our son Sam."

"Sam," the robot repeated. "The Autobot hero, nice to finally meet you."

The boy could swear he blushed right then. Being constantly reminded of how he saved Optimus Prime, being called a hero... it was nothing, right? Everyone would have done that.

He had no idea how much he had in common with his car.

"The name's Kup," the green Autobot said, kneeling to have his face closer to the humans and not tower over them too much. "Autobot Chief of Security."

"Hi," Sam managed, still a bit reluctant to speak in case he gets glorified as a hero again. He was not a hero. He was a normal kid. Or at least he wanted to be.

"You don't need to worry for Bumblebee," Kup gave him a small, reassuring smile that somewhat twisted his elderly plating. "He and Sunstreaker are nearing, so they'll be here soon."

"It's not them I'm worried about," he muttered, hoping that the robot did not hear. He seemed to have underestimated the old sensors, however, as Kup straightened up with a nod.

"I know, this whole thing keeps gettin' wierder an' wierder," he said, more to himself, as he headed into the command center slowly enough for the humans to follow. "I hope Prime gets back here soon, he should see this..."

"See what?" asked Sideswipe with a slight frown.

Kup sighed as he sat by one of the circular panels and engaged a holographic projector, while the Lamboghini held Sam up so that he could see better. His parents had to stay down and enjoy a somewhat worse view.

"We have received this data from the Ark only a few Earth hours ago," the security chief said, bringing up an image of the globe.

"Ark?" Sam asked.

"A ship."

"You have a ship here?"

"Parked it on the dark side of the moon," Kup grinned slightly as the projected image changed somewhat. Dots began pulsing somewhere near the western coast of North America. They seemed to form some sort of a line, which was rather short, in fact, and concentrated on a seemingly enclosed area.

The humans watched rather blankly, as did Sideswipe, not really knowing what they were looking at and just awaited an explanation.

"The Ark's sensors began picking up some strange radiation as soon as we got in range of Earth."

"What radiation?" the boy asked, not entirely sure he wants to know.

"Accordin' to our chief scientist, it's the All Spark."

"Oh," Sam did not seem surprised. "You mean what's left of it, I know Optimus picked up a shard—"

"No," Kup interrupted. "The All Spark. The whole thing."

"What's an All Spark?" Ron asked from below, looking first at his wife and then at the red Lamborghini, but was silenced by Sideswipe's raised hand.

"That's not possible," Sam went on, staring the green mechanoid in the dimmed, weary optics. "It's been destroyed, I mean, I did it myself, how can it be whole if it, you know, disintegrated?"

"That's the tricky part," Kup sighed as he pressed some fancy glowing buttons to zoom the display onto North America. "See this? These readings concentrate on Tranquility. And a few other places you've been frequently visitin'."

The boy stared in disbelief. That could not mean what he thought it did, could it? Such things happen on TV, right?

... Just like alien robots landing on Earth.

"You're not trying to say that..."

"You are the All Spark."


	6. Menace

_This story has been conceived before "Revenge of the Fallen" and does not include any events from the movie. Plot similarities are coincidences. Honestly._

* * *

This was ridiculous. They would not let him wander without guard, and he expected that, as well as being thoroughly searched, what meant loosing the stunner. And having to keep the leather glove on, although the humans did not seem too afraid of being fed on, not by him. Apparently word that he does not enjoy the procedure has spread. An inward sigh was all Todd could manage in this situation as he wandered the corridors pretty aimlessly, much to his guard's dismay. Irritating him was his only entertainment right now.

How could he have been so foolish? Agreeing to a venture so risky without as much as basic intelligence. But then again, what choice did he have? Either way his hive is doomed.

Unless...

He took a sharp turn into the nearest corridor, headed for one of Atlantis' transporters. The guard followed quickly, huffing at the sudden change of mind, and Todd grinned to himself slightly. This time, at least, he knew exactly where he was going.

The corridor was very busy and he could feel the people shoot him glances as he hurried past, shoving some of them away if they stood in his path. He could not be bothered, not this time, and they knew better than to get in Wraith's way, especially one that has been at relative peace with them for so long. He quickly walked past a set of doors to private quarters before finally stopping by one of them. The beeping doorbell was irritating, but pretty much the only way to signal that someone was waiting to be let in.

He kept ringing the bell a while before the door finally slid open.

"What do you want?" Sheppard frowned upon seeing him.

"We need to speak," he said quickly, in a tone that betrayed some sort of anxiety. "Alone."

The colonel blinked, not looking exactly sober, the mess on his head greater than usual, implying that he must have been asleep. "Okay," he nodded at the guard, dismissing him. The man waited outside, by the door, just in case, as Todd entered the quarters.

"I know what I told you before," the Wraith said before the other could speak, looking more and more disturbed. "I lied."

"No surprise," Sheppard sat on his bed, watching Todd pace around the room. Each moment they spent together convinced him even more that their two species are more alike than apart.

"I did that for the sake of my hive," Todd growled, not really impressing the man. "I believed that was the only course of action. But I no longer believe so."

John stared at him rather blankly. "You come to me _again_."

The Wraith paused. "Because we are brothers."

The colonel rose from where he was sitting, a sly smirk creeping onto his handsome, unshaven face. "Suddenly you remembered."

"I have never forgotten," he stated calmly.

Silence followed as the two stared at each other. Sheppard's smirk began to fade, and then, together, the two smiled at each other.

"So what's the problem this time?" asked the human.

"Not all I said was a lie," Todd frowned slightly, his expression becoming serious once more as he recalled the images that disgusted him to no end. "My hive has been attacked by those... machines. They have sent me to recover something you have in the city... some sort of a living orb."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. Oh yes, that sounded familiar. Very familiar. All his suspicions proved to be true.

"They threatened to destroy all my hives if I fail..." the Wraith added, trailing off. The colonel blinked; not every day did one see such concern among the Wraith, even though his brother has shown that he cares about his brethren before. He had always been different. That was what made him Todd.

"I risk much by telling you this," he added to break the silence.

"You want me to give you the... that orb."

Sheppard sighed as no reply came to that. Todd did not look away, however, his eyes betraying that all he wants is a solution. And he knew him well enough to know that it does not have to be the _obvious_ one.

"Well," he said with his trademark devilish grin, "I think we may be able to work something out."

* * *

"What do you mean he's been _caught_?" Starscream growled into his intercom, a fist clenched on the arm of his throne.

A whimper reached back through the channel. _He was outnumbered!_ Rumble squealed.

"And you did not think to call us sooner?" Starscream said, suddenly very calm, what only indicated an incoming storm.

_Sorry, sir!_ the cassette whimpered.

The Seeker sighed, shaking his head slowly. What has he done to deserve being bound with such incompetent morons? "Laserbeak is on his way," he announced. "Observe them. Galvatron wants the boy."

_What about the Prime?_ Rumble asked carefully.

A small smirk crept onto the commander's faceplates. "Leave him to me."

There was no more reply as the small robot terminated the link, hopefully to carry out his orders. The Seeker rose from his throne to go and supervise the final steps of the construction of his very own base, glad that there has been no word from this mysterious Galvatron and not bothering to wonder why. If something happened to him... well, that would be a shame, no?

As he stood and took a few steps away from the throne he felt someone's gaze on his back. A stare that was so cold, so drilling that it could belong to only one mechanoid.

"What is it, Soundwave?" he asked.

"Frenzy?" came a short, painfully plain and emotionless reply.

Starscream paused. Ah, yes, the little cassette freak that disappeared on Earth nearly a year ago. Few liked him. To be honest, probably only the communications officer and his flock of aides.

Who was probably reading those thoughts as they flew.

"Frenzy's help in locating the All Spark and retrieving Megatron was invaluable," Starscream said smoothly, yet carefully choosing words. "But right now we have much more important matters to attend to."

With this, he simply turned his silver back to the other mechanoid, leaving him alone by the throne. Soundwave did not move, not just yet, watching the second-in-command – or was it commander? Had to tell at that point – go and leave the command centre altogether. Only then did he approach a console and began his search.

Not only Starscream knew how to play games.

* * *

"There's gotta be a mistake," Sam said with clear disbelief, eyeing the two mechanoids before him in turns, pretty much ignoring his parents' prodding about what the All Spark is.

Kup shrugged his thin shoulders. "I believe what I see, kid," he announced, approaching a different console, one that appeared completely idle and was equipped with three display screens.

Having pressed a sequence of keys, he said: "This is Security Chief Kup, I need to speak to Perceptor."

A moment passed, the silence broken by a short "_affirmative_" that sounded in the speakers, and finally the central screen flickered online.

It showed a robotic face situated in a black helmet, and the visible parts of the chassis betrayed hues of red. His expression was soft, yet serious, the blue optics deep.

"Hello, Kup," he said in a high-pitched voice. "Is something the matter?"

"Not exactly," the green mechanoid said as he stepped aside, tilting the camera a bit down so that it showed the humans standing on the floor. "Meet the Witwickys."

He smiled at them. "It is a pleasure," he announced. "I am Perceptor, Autobot Chief Scientist."

"Hi," said Sam, his mother waving frantically behind him. "What's this crap about me being the All Spark?"

"I understand it came as a shock to you," Perceptor nodded, his serious expression unchanged. "But I do not think there has been a mistake. You see, the signatures we picked up are especially strong in places you have been frequenting since the cube's destruction. I have spent a considerable amount of time analysing the residuals, and I assure you that the energy signature is a direct match to the All Spark."

The boy nodded slowly. "Oookay," he said. "Why me?"

"I thought you would ask. You see, we do not really comprehend the true nature of the All Spark, but some of the more religious claim it to be the very being of our god-creator Primus."

"Machines have a god?" Ronald asked with a frown.

Perceptor continued, as if uninterrupted: "It is likely that the cube's energy has been passed onto the nearest suitable receptacle upon the disintegration of its frame-"

Kup cleared his throat.

"Erm," the scientist paused. "I theorize that the All spark could have passed its energy to the last person that was holding it..."

"Me," Sam nodded. "Why would it do that?"

"A failsafe," said Perceptor "to stop its life-giving powers from being lost."

The boy sighed rather heavily, but making no sound. "So what? Want me to go to Cybertron and restore it or something?"

Silence fell, in which his parents gazed at him sharply with mute questions and clear refusal at the same time. Sam raised an eyebrow, looking from one to the other.

"Actually," Kup began slowly "we were kinda hopin' that could be possible."

* * *

Sheppard's plan was crazy – so with pretty good chances of success. After all, that was how SG and Atlantis teams dealt with day-to-day business. The colonel entered McKay's private laboratory, where the dismantled Decepticon laid and looked menacing. Well, not so much since the glowing Spark has been moved to the isolation room, so that the Decepticon – this Cyclonus – does not know what is going on.

Sheppard did not see McKay at first, as the scientist was hidden between the screens they set up around the lab, just in case there was some sort of link between individual parts. There were only the sounds of Rodney shuffling around and the quiet beeping of diagnostic devices.

"Hey," he said as the finally noticed the colonel.

"I see you're busy," John frowned, eyeing his friend's object of interest.

It appeared to be the mechanoid's head, although dismantled. The rabbit-like ears have been removed and placed carelessly on the floor by the huge desk on which McKay was working. Cyclonus' face was blank, red optics completely dark and main cerebral circuitry exposed. Wires connected it to Lantian diagnostic devices, but it was nothing like them.

For one, the materials were obviously much different, looking more like a combination of dense greyish stone and delicately green crystal pathways woven into it. Metals he knew do not look like that.

All in all, it was like watching open brain surgery. A pretty gruesome sight.

"I can't believe that old mech agreed to let his prisoner go," said Sheppard, grimacing at the exposed circuitry.

"He said something about keeping him being dangerous," Rodney said without looking at the colonel, turning from the diagnostic screens to the idle head. "Tracking through the bond and all."

"Yeah..." the other frowned. "What is that bond anyway?"

McKay cleared his throat. "A link between Sparks is how Trion described it," he said somewhat carefully. "Something to do with love."

"Or a way to control," Sheppard mused out loud.

The scientist did not respond to that, occupying himself once more with his work, probably not wanting to know which of these two options was correct. He reached to the exposed circuits and carefully fiddled with them, as if looking for something.

John narrowed his eyes, watching him look from his hands to readings on screens, then back again.

"So..." he began after a moment. "How's it going?"

"Hmm, forward," Rodney nodded and snapped his fingers, then rushed to the panels by the workstation Cyclonus was hooked up to. He quickly began pressing keys, suddenly forgetting someone else is there, too.

"Rodney..."

"Gimme a moment."

Sheppard grinned. "Okay, Meredith."

The scientist glared from the workstation and straightened himself up. "There. Done. Now, you wanted something?"

"You were supposed to keep me posted."

"We're making progress."

Sheppard looked at him meaningfully, waving a hand at him and wanting him to continue.

McKay pointed at the robotic head. "I managed to hack his radio," he said. "We got the frequency and are constantly connected to it. Of course, it's gonna require some tests and simulations before we can say for sure if this is gonna work, and it's not gonna work, if you ask me..."

"I'm not asking you if this will work," the colonel interrupted the bluestreak, obviously annoyed. "I'm asking you to _make_ it work."

Rodney sighed. "We need more time."

"Todd was supposed to be helping you."

"And he is," the physicist nodded. "He just went out for lunch."

Sheppard froze, eyebrows raised. "Lunch...?"

"Yeah," McKay smirked. "Says he likes the blue jelly best."

* * *

Of course he was the one to be summoned. As soon as something went wrong, he was the one to make the hard decisions. Or when anyone, literally anyone decided something is important enough for him to take care of it in person, he had to. That was what they expected of him, was it not? He was the acting commander, whether he liked it or not.

He did not, obviously. Prime could not get back soon enough.

Ultra Magnus sighed to himself. He was not getting back and everyone knew it. Sooner everyone else would leave Cybertron to itself than come back to die along with it...

The science section of Autobase laid to the south, but then again, where is south if you are positioned at the globe's north pole? The corridors seemed slightly wider than in the other areas, but that could have simply been an optical illusion caused by the completely bare walls. The only objects mounted on them were security cameras, positioned pretty close to each other to cover all possible ground, while all the equipment was divided between numerous laboratories, workshops and observatories. Needless to say, the science section had its own medical room.

Ultra Magnus headed into one of the laboratories situated at the very top of the building, near its middle. It was the biggest lab the Autobots had in Iacon – and anywhere, to be honest – equipped with everything it might need, including microscopes, vials, all sorts of containers, numerous and various workstations and computers linked to the base's most sophisticated long-range sensors and satellites, a telescope and many more.

By one of the workstations stood a hulking white and red mechanoid, larger than almost any other Autobot. His protective helmet laid on the floor by his station, and two straight wings covered his back. He was leaning over the panel, his face rather stern as he concentrated on something that apparently demanded all his attention, and did not really look like good news. He did not notice Ultra Magnus enter and approach him slowly.

"Skyfire?"

The scientist span around. "Ah, sir... forgive me, I didn't notice you..."

"You wanted to see me?" the commander asked with a forgiving smile.

"Yes, sir," he turned back to the console. "We finally completed analysing the signals and residuals they picked up on Junk."

Magnus frowned at the charts and lines of code he barely understood. "And what can you tell me?"

"Basically, sir, the signature fits a mech," Skyfire said, supporting himself on one arm that he put on the console. "As in, a mechanical being with something similar to a Spark, but the signature itself does not exactly match any type we know."

"Care to elaborate?"

In response, the scientist moved to another screen, one that was thus far idle and brought up graphs displaying a couple of measurements that appeared to be energy signatures. Each was different, but something did not seem right.

Skyfire pointed at the topmost one. "This is the signature we got from Junk," he explained. "Below we have an exemplary signature of a Junkion, below an Autobot, a Decepticon, Paradronian." Ultra Magnus nodded, staring at them intently and trying to find the snag he knew was there, but one he could not really put his finger on.

The other noticed that and nodded. "It's not that obvious, but this new signature contains elements of the other four. As if it was the four combined. And the other readings confirm it."

"Okay. Bottom line it for me, what does this mean?"

"Well," the flier sighed "we can't confirm it for sure, but at this point... I'd say something with a signature like that is either an artificially created hybrid, or on the contrary, some sort of parent entity."

The commander paused, gazing at him with his optic ridges raised. "Like Primus."

"... Yes," Skyfire nodded hesitantly. "Although his existence has never been confirmed."

"I have to talk to Alpha Trion," Magnus span on a heel and quickly headed for the door. The scientist followed, looking both curious and not entirely convinced about anything that was on his mind right then.

"But, sir..."

"No buts, Skyfire. I got a very bad feeling about this, and I pray that Alpha Trion can prove me wrong."

* * *

Alpha Trion and Elita One supervised the final stage of the quickly sketched and very crazy plan that they thought will work just fine. The scientists from all over Atlantis helped bring Cyclonus' parts to the northern pier of the city, where the elder Autobot carefully welded them back together. The humans of course took the unique opportunity to learn more about how their Cybertronian friends and enemies function – McKay's irritating, never ending questions and comments included. The Spark was last to arrive, and the tension in the air became almost tangible. Even though Alpha Trion ensured that the Decepticon remains offline, there was no telling what exactly might happen after they place the essence back in.

With a stern face and completely still hands, which looked like being forced not to tremble, the elder took the Spark and carefully placed it within Cyclonus' chest. It glowed with a soft blue, pulsing and illuminating those around it eerily until the chestplates have been closed over it. Alpha Trion nodded, not looking at anyone in particular.

Sheppard activated his radio and said something to it, but the two Autobots were not listening. Elita One just stood there with a worried expression and watched her creator stay like he was, with his hands pressed against the purple Spark chamber. The femme finally pulled him away gently as a dart approached the pier, and he did not resist, just watching the craft's transport beam scoop the Decepticon up and take away.

They all watched. The rest of the plan relied on Todd and the special delivery he had for Shockwave.

"Are you alright?" Elita One asked her creator softly, holding his arm.

He nodded. "I am," he said with a sigh. "I just hoped the wars could finally end... and they are getting worse by the day."

"I know," she also sighed. "But every war must one day come to an end."

"It destroyed Cybertron. Instead of ending, it just moved on."

The femme did not reply to that, as no words were needed. They surely could not heal the wounds of every Cybertronian that had to abandon home.

Someone coughed by their feet and they both looked down to see a man, one of the administration staff, standing near and waving at them for attention. "Sorry to butt in like this," he said in an apologetic tone "but we received a transmission on the Autobot frequency."

Alpha Trion instantly detached himself from Elita and headed for the Ark at a quick pace, obviously intending to respond. She just frowned, watching him leave.

"Who is it from?" she asked, not looking at the human.

"He introduced himself as Ultra Magnus," he replied politely. "Said it's urgent."

"It probably is."

* * *

Alpha Trion almost ran into the ship and towards its bridge, quickly powering up the critical systems and waiting for the communications console to respond. It booted up soon, displaying lines and lines of code as its primary systems settled down and then the Autobot was free to open up a channel to Cybertron.

"Cybertron, do you read me?" he said quickly. "Please, respond!"

The small display screen flickered as the image changed and showed the troubled face of a blue and white mechanoid, whose expression quickly brightened as he saw the elder on the other side.

"Magnus, my boy..." Trion said, smiling warmly. "So good to see you again..."

"I'm glad you're alright," the commander nodded. "I heard things weren't good at your place..."

"We manage. You sent a message to Atlantis?"

Magnus nodded again. "Sort of. I wanted to speak with you about certain energy readings the Junkions picked up. Whatever the source, it seems to be moving towards Earth."

"Earth..." Alpha Trion shook his head, supporting himself on the console on both outstretched arms. "What did you find out about those readings?"

"Well..." the other sighed rather heavily. "Analysis indicates that it's an energy signature of a being that lives on a Spark." The elder frowned to this, his optic ridges rising sharply. That did not sound like good news. "_Further_, comparative analysis shows that the signature comprises of a handful of others, including Autobot, Decepticon, Junkion and Paradronian..."

The old mechanoid raised a hand to silence him for a moment. "Wait. What are you trying to say?"

"That whatever the source of this energy, it's either a hybrid or a parent entity."

Trion's gaze became stern and rather sharp. "A parent entity..."

"Like Primus."

"More than you think."

Magnus frowned questioningly. "What do you mean?"

The other actually smiled at him then, optics slightly dimmed. "Do you believe in myths? Legends?"

There was a pause of silence, in which the commander eyed what he saw of his elder's face. "Isn't that what they are? Legends? Stories?"

"Not all of them," Trion shook his head. "In every myth lies some truth, and this can mean only one thing... He is headed for Earth."

"... Who?"

"Unicron."


End file.
